i get into everything really late in the game have you noticed

Your senior year roommate calls herself Clarity. She’s very small and rumpled and distant, and she goes for long walks in the forest south of campus when she’s frustrated. You aren’t friends, but you coexist peacefully. It’s enough.

The creature on your co-owned Walmart futon isn’t Clarity.

It looks like her. Enough to fool a casual observer, certainly. Enough to fool someone who hasn’t been soldering sterling silver for six hours. But you have, and the truth of silver lingers, and the Thing That Looks Like Clarity is sprouting delicate flowers from the skin of its bare shoulders.

It’s sitting cross-legged and perfectly, terribly still, tracking your eyes as you take all this in. When you sigh and set down your backpack, it says, “Hello, smith. There didn’t seem to be any sense in pretending.”

“Jeweler,” you say, and, “I go by Florence, these days. What should I call you?”

It blinks, languid and slow. “I’m not here to usurp. I’m a… placeholder.”

“It’s still confusing as shit, my guy.”

It considers this at length. Finally, with the air of one who has just solved a great puzzle, it says “Claire. We will know, the two of us.”

“Works for me. Nice meeting you, Claire.”

And that seems to be all there is to say. Your roommate’s been stolen by the Fair Folk, you’re living with a changeling, and there’s not much you can do about either of these things. You scroll through Instagram until it gets tired of watching you and wanders out into the hallway.

So that’s Claire.

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Harry Styles Vocal Health on SNL

Hello!  So first and foremost I wan to put out there how much I love Harry and his voice.  Dear god it’s SO COOL and unique.  I love how when he’s in good vocal health he has all these different textures to it- the gruffness of his chest voice, the purity of his falsetto, the power of his belt.  When the studio version of SOTT came out I couldn’t sing his praises enough.  His voice sounded SO HEALTHY.  He was making such good choices!!!  Everything was relaxed and well supported.  He let the song build naturally.  He MUST have gotten some solid vocal training over his break because that isn’t something that can just happen over night.  I was very impressed and very proud.  I was also a bit nervous to see if these changes would hold when he started performing live….and…..it looks like I had good reason to be nervous.  

Here’s the thing. There are a few reasons I’m so hard on Harry in particular when it comes to poor technique. First, compared to the other guys, his technique is the only one that’s actually physically DAMAGING.  Could the other guys benefit from proper training?  Sure.  Of course.  Every singer can.  Even those who have been singing for years still should train on a regular basis.  But the other boys’ bad habits are just that- bad habits.  They aren’t going to do long term damage, not the way Harry’s are.    The second reason is BECAUSE I know he can do (AND HAS DONE!!!!!) so much better!!   I know he’s CAPABLE of so much more and so yeah, I’m hard on him because of that. And finally, I know exactly what he’s doing physically and exactly what’s going through his mind because I have the same exact bad habits and I can see him using the same exact thought process as to why he slips into these again.

Harry is the Ultimate Performer. He wants nothing more than to put on a good show for everyone, even if that means sacrificing his own vocal health.  Now, that’s isn’t a HUGE problem…until it KEEPS happening.  Which is what happened with OTRA.  And possibly might be happening now, although that remains to be seen.  One performance of one song slips into an entire show of this slips into two shows of this slips into the entire tour and wham, you’ve got nodes.  I think the biggest problem with Harry’s performance last night is he doesn’t trust the material or HIMSELF to sell it the way it is.  He feels he needs to overcompensate and big Big and Bold right from the start and that song is not built to be sung that way.  He started at a level that he couldn’t sustain throughout the entire thing and had nowhere to go.  That’s when he ran into trouble.  

As soon as he opened his mouth, I knew it wasn’t going to go well.  Don’t get me wrong, he sounds fantastic in the beginning…but like I said, there was nothing for him to build upon because he already started it at too high a height. His voice sounded raspy to me too, raspier than usual.  That can be caused by a few things- he could have been dehydrated (you can’t sing right if you don’t pee white!), he could have been tired (we know he’s a morning person and that show is pretty late for him), he could have strained his voice at the concert the night before, he could have over rehearsed, he could have smoked a bit.  I don’t know what the cause was, but he didn’t start off the evening in the best vocal health, especially for a song that’s very difficult to sing.  I also think he KNEW that so again, he tried to overcompensate for that by pushing.  

There is so much tension throughout his whole body, particular his shoulders on up.  I’m sure a lot of that is due to nerves.  I’ve said it many times before and I’ll say it again: the SNL stage is one of the hardest venues for artists to play.  There’s something particularly rough about it.  He’s also always had problems tensing up his face when he sings, but it what was particularly striking to me was that he did it during the falsetto parts.  That should have been EASY for him to sing.  That’s something light and relaxed.  Almost a break from the tension of the rest of the song…and yet he looks like he was in pain.  Which makes me wonder if he WAS in pain.  it’s hard to tell, but it almost seems like the second time he does it he pushes it more to a mix than a pure falsetto. 

It’s notable to me how relaxed the second syllable of  “bullets” around 2:44-2:48 is compared to the rest.  THAT is what the whole thing should have sounded like.  it’s relaxed and he’s got a great vibratto on it that comes straight from the diaphragm there- compare that to how tight “bullets” are the second time he sings it in that phrase at 2:58ish-3:04.  Why did you change what you were doing, sir??? In fact, to me it seemed like he KNEW it sounded good the first time and did his cute li’l dance and then came back to it feeling like “yeah I got this…” and then tightened right back up again.  because he didn’t trust himself.  

Thennnnnn the bridge happens.  And this is what i mean by he had nowhere to go.  THIS should have been his first belt it out moment.  but he pushed too hard too quickly and his voice just…wasn’t there.  It was tired.  The first scoop up to the first “we” was off key because of it and I think he knew it which made it even worse and MORE tense to the point where he just didn’t have the vocal agility to flip into his fasletto again for “learn”.  And then we’ve got the “it’s just what we know” which was just a poor choice.  I have a feeling he nailed that MULTIPLE times in rehearsals and mannnnn if he was in good vocal health how killer would that have sounded!??!!?  But instead, we got what’s called harmonic distortion which is SUPER VERY YIKESY AND A BIG SIGN OF HOLYSHITYOU’REDOINGDAMAGE (i sincerely hope he has an appointment with an ENT this week and gets scoped to check that out).   This was another instance of him trying to put on a great show and overcompensate for what he probably felt was lackluster vocals (which for the record WERE NOT THAT BAD.  I’m picking it apart because…well, it’s what I do.  and i don’t think I would have had too much of a problem if it weren’t for the super damaging choices he ended up making).  

From there he’s thinking “Oh shit that was bad…I REALLY fucked up…better step up my game and make the end better!” and once again tries to overcompensate and push a voice that’s already been pushed to the brink.  there just wasn’t more in there for it to give.  He couldn’t sustain it.  He had already given everything that there was go to give.  

When it comes to ESNY, it was a much better performance.  I think it’s partially due to the fact that it’s an easier song to sing and partially due to the fact that he was playing guitar so he wasn’t as much in his head (Side note: CAN YOU BELIEVE HE FINALLY BLESSED US WITH HIS GUITAR SKILLS?????).  His belty part towards the end wasn’t as good as it could have been, but I think that’s just due to the fact that his voice was kinda shot and that’s the best it was going to be.  It wasn’t TERRIBLE and obviously it could have been better, but I am curious to hear the studio version to see if there’s more belting that he just wasn’t comfortable with last night.  I could have done without the facial affectations because it just adds more tension and tension is bad, kiddos  But I think it’s a stylistic choice and I’m trying to pick my battles here.  Additionally, as we’ve seen in gif form his li’l neck vein was popping out so yeah he was tensing up pretty good there…but again, it wasn’t as terrible as it could have been since the song itself isn’t as taxing vocally.  

All in all, the performances were great, especially if you’re not as picky as I am. I know this was his first time singing live in well over a year and SNL is high stress and it’s his first time out there ALONE.  I’m curious to see what happens on Graham Norton and if he improves his technique. I’m also really curious to see how he’ll be on tour as well. I do wonder if he’ll lower the key of SOTT so it’s not as taxing.  No one would really notice and it would make things a little easier on him. It’s just frustrating because I know he has it in him to do it well.  We’ve HEARD him do it well.  But he just doesn’t trust himself enough to do that and that kind of breaks my heart a little.  Thankfully, he’s young and has time to learn.  He can still break these habits and make new, healthier ones and learn to trust himself more.

BUDDY.  YOU GOT THIS.  YOU HAVE AN AMAZING VOICE.  YOU ARE A FANTASTIC SONGWRITER.  YOU HAVE GREAT TECHNIQUE WHEN YOU PUT YOUR MIND TO IT.  YOU ARE A KILLER SHOWMAN WITH A TON OF CHARISMA.  PLEASE TRUST THESE THINGS AND STOP PUSHING YOURSELF BECAUSE I DON’T WANT TO SEE YOU DAMAGE ANYTHING.  

Love,

B <3 

@taylor-tut tHIS IS SO LATE I’M SO SORRY MY FAB FRIENDO! But! It has finally arrived!! I’m sorry if it’s a bit crappy, I like haven’t slept in three days haha

anyhoo, onto the story:


Lance woke up with a sneeze.

He blinked his eyes open, immediately groaning at the light that pierced through his eyeballs and into his temples. He brought an arm up to shield his face, shivering slightly. Taking a deep breath, Lance conducted a mental survey of his condition, assessing his apparently numerous ailments that seem to have manifested overnight.

Congested sinuses that dissolved into a throbbing headache that pulsed outward with each movement? Check. 

Raw, sandpaper throat, and lungs that rattled with every inhale? Check.

The strange sensation of being completely, bone-numbingly cold despite the warmth and clamminess of his limbs? Checkerooni.

Conclusion: Today is gonna suck.

If Lance were to be perfectly honest with himself, he would concede that he had been feeling off these last couple days. Nevertheless, the team needed his 100% right now, and any wooziness he may have felt had to be put on the backburner. With several months having passed without any sign of Shiro, tensions within the castle were palpable.  Keith and Pidge seemed inches away from snapping at any given moment, Allura’s training schedule seemed to have been kicked up the several notches from “very harsh” to “dear god I can taste my own pulse”, and even Hunk and Coran seemed somewhat subdued. It was the least Lance could do to try and keep up, and make sure the other’s stayed optimistic. He was the joker, the sharpshooter - it was his role, no matter how taxing it could be on his own body.

Lance steeled himself, counting down from five, before swinging out of his bed, pausing to lean against the wall as a wave of dizziness washed over him. Once the tilt-a-whirl he usually called a bedroom settled to a soft swaying, Lance began to make his way down to the dining hall.

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On Prompto

So this cave-dude I know recently called Prompto a ‘pussy’. Delightful, right? But then I’ve also noticed lately this weird tendency in fics to reduce Prompto to (and reinforce his character as) this emotionally weak, almost ‘frightened bunny’ trope, even bordering on actual childishness at times. Now, these are in fact two different issues in the end, yet the overlap is considerable, when you think about it. And I just…

Whaaaat?!

While I recognise and absolutely support all fic writers and such in their right to do whatever the hell they want (Please do! You are valued, and our fandom needs you!), I just…maaaaan. Sometimes I just have to gently shake my head when it comes to some characterisations of our boy Prom.

Now I totally get that AU’s are a thing, as well as personal perspectives. Like, in my head, Prompto can have a pretty bad potty mouth, and regularly drops those f-bombs, and you can totally disagree with me, which is a beautiful thing. Also, if you follow this blog you have definitely seen me tag Prompto as a ‘smol cinnamon bun’, in need of protection ‘at all costs’ and blah blah blah (this is largely meme-based, because I subsist on Diet Coke and memes- I digress). 

But it’s honestly the layered essence of what makes this character who he is, the many elements written into and played out in the canon, that make him so appealing to me, personally. To see him essentially reduced to a caricature of himself, a distilled version of everything he is that just sort of latches onto this ‘he’s the baby and the smallest, the most caring and therefore the weakest’ idea, just feels so off the mark. And it makes me kind of sad, you know? 

Let it be known right off the bat that I’m obviously by no means claiming to be some sort of FINAL WORD ON PROMPTO or anything so ridiculous. Neither is this some sort of ‘call out’ on any particular writing or portrayal, at all. I can’t abide by that shit. 

I just feel like talking about how I see Prompto, I guess?  

In all honesty, the Prompto I experienced in the game, as well as in the anime, and audio drama, was anything but weak, and anything but childish. He was always, right from the start, very much the backbone of the Chocobros’ group, the one voicing what everyone was thinking, easing their tension and swallowing his self-doubt to strive to be the best he could be for his friends, like he’s always done. 

Originally posted by gladios-booty-sweat

He got this.

Prompto literally escaped/was rescued from/was vaguely aware of at least, a mysterious and probably terrifying early history, and then proceeded to face a lot of bullshit when he was growing up- at home, with frequently absent parents who left him often to his own devices, as well as at school, where he was closed off from and largely ignored by the other kids. This all could have resulted in a really timid, emotionally fragile or ‘weak’ character, but the fact is… it didn’t? He grew up independent and actually pretty capable of caring for himself, not to mention totally self-taught when it came to interacting with others (thank you for the vote of confidence, Luna). He also grew up with a compassionate streak a mile wide. 

I won’t get too into my thoughts on this idea in particular because this post is already massive, and to discuss patriarchal conventions (the aforementioned use of the word ‘pussy’ in this context), not to mention strength vs. resilience on top of it would just get out of hand. I will say this: we can all stand to remember that compassion does not equal weakness.

Prompto was afraid a lot, sure- they all were, obviously- but he was also brave as fuck. If bravery means to ‘feel the fear and do it anyway’, then Prompto’s a master. He’s been practising his entire life, after all.  

Prompto was always there, right? This ever present force for good, supporting his friends and their goals, to the bitter end. He was there, thinking and acting on the fly during the Leviathan ritual, which was obviously a horrific ordeal even before its conclusion. He was ever at the ready to see things from all sides, like when Ignis was injured and all hell broke loose between the less-capable, (emotionally-speaking) Gladio and Noct. He was even there, ready to offer a taste of his usual, cheery self when they were all together for the very last time, even if it was clearly breaking his heart. 

Heyas.

And yeah he’d kid around, make silly jokes (interestingly, it seems, especially during situations of high tension or uncertainty on the part of his friends, like deep in the depths of some mind-boggling ruins or when facing the prospect of ‘hey, we are actually going to go to Altissia now- oh holy fuck!’). But he was also so very capable of adult conversation, especially when it came to his feelings, which we saw several times throughout the canon- a sure sign of real maturity if ever there was one, in my opinion. 

The fact is, Prompto’s fear isn’t who he is, and neither is his small physical stature nor his big heart. Rather, his actions and choices in the face of all of that make up the person he is. (Like anyone, right?). He is no caricature for cute, nor for weak or timid or scared. And I for one want to see more about that guy, in all his multifaceted, achingly resilient, freckle-faced glory. 

And don’t fucking call me ‘pussy’, dude. 

When Duty and Desire Meet Chapter 4

Art by @edendaphne , words by moi!

Summary: After their accidental kiss on Valentine’s day, both Marinette and Chat Noir have to deal with the emotional fallout of their actions.

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~

Valentine’s Day Part 2

“So, let me get this straight,” Alya said, leaning back against Marinette’s desk chair and steepling her fingers. Beside her, on a little table-cushion Marinette had made, Tikki slept soundly, having already heard the story a thousand times over. “You’re in love with Chat Noir.”

“You already knew that,” Marinette groaned from her chaise, hugging a cushion to her chest and leaning back like a Freudian patient. Lord knows she was about three sentences away from a therapy-inducing hissy fit regardless, so it was probably prudent of her to be lying down in such a way. She was preparing for her inevitable breakdown that’s all. It was the smart thing to do.

And she rarely did the smart thing nowadays it seemed, so she really needed this.

“You’ve been in love with Chat as Ladybug for like a bajillion years,” Alya continued, ignoring Marinette as she continued to rehash pointless details. Details which made Marinette want to bludgeon herself to death with her cushion.

It was most likely impossible to do such a thing but she was never one to back down from a challenge. Death by cushion- she’d find a way.

“Yes. We’ve already established that,” she replied through gritted teeth, said cushion slowly creeping up to cover her face.

“But last night you kissed him by accident,” Alya said.

“Uh-huh.”

“As Marinette.”

“That is correct sir,” Marinette wiggled a finger.

“And he gave you a rose and kissed you back.”

“Tru’ dat.”

It was indicative of Marinette’s deteriorating mental state that she’d said “Tru’ dat”. She’d never said “Tru’ dat” in her whole life.

“I see,” Alya nodded a few times. The fact her tone had remained neutral the whole time was doing nothing to help Marinette’s poor nerves, and so she swung her legs over the side of her chaise, sitting up to get a better view of Alya’s twinkling eyes. A sense of dread settled in Marinette’s stomach. Alya’s eye-twinkles were never a good thing, at least when they were directed towards her.

I see?! Is that all you have to say? Seriously?! I thought you’d be freaking out right now, I mean I’m freaking out but then I ALWAYS freak out. You not freaking out is making me freak out harder! Can you please freak out with me? Join me in the freak out zone already!” Marinette blabbed, waving her arms and promptly dropping the cushion to the ground.

Alya said nothing, instead choosing to raise an eyebrow at her and cross her legs. At least she’d stopped steepling her fingers, Marinette thought gruffly.

After a short pause, Alya finally spoke, but her voice wobbled and strained unnaturally, her lips thinned in a way that was entirely too suspicious. “Firstly, stop saying freak out, secondly I’m not freaking out because this is the funniest thing I’ve ever heard.”

She barely made it to the end of her sentence before she doubled over and descended into giggles.

It was in that moment that Marinette realised Alya’s peculiar behaviour had been due to her hiding her amusement, and she felt fully justified in yanking the cushion from its position on the floor and hurling it towards her supposed ‘best friend forever.’

Unfortunately, Alya dodged the fluffy projectile with ease.

“Come on, this is serious! I’m in hot water here!” Marinette cried, crossing her arms across her chest.

“When are you not though? Let’s be real,” the redhead shot back with a wry grin, twirling in the chair and kicking backwards to check her hair in the small vanity mirror on Marinette’s desk. The sight made Marinette relax a little. Alya only checked her hair with such scrutiny when she was seriously contemplating something.

Suddenly missing the comforting embrace of the cushion, Marinette flopped down once more. As her back hit the large pillows adorning her chaise, she let out a long sigh and all the fear, the panic, the fight, left her in one fell swoop. Only tiredness and uncertainty remained.

“How am I going to face him?” she whispered. Her head tilted towards her small, round window, to the afternoon sun beaming down in a total antithesis to her feelings. She wondered where Chat Noir was at that moment.

Did she cross his mind?

Over the years Marinette had asked herself that question more times than she could count. But it was different now. Now she wondered if Chat thought of her, of Marinette, not of Ladybug. Did he dwell on it- how they’d kissed? She had. She’d thought about it all night, until exhaustion had finally overcome her and she’d woken up late, cold, wanting something she could barely comprehend.

For years, she’d thought about what it would mean to kiss Chat Noir, Dark Cupid incident aside considering she couldn’t even remember it.

A small, involuntary whimper left her when she recalled the night before. The kiss had been an accident… at first. But the second she felt Chat’s lips press into hers was burned into her memory, playing over and over again. The moment he returned her kiss had ignited something dormant inside her and she felt raw, emotions exposed and unlocked, with nowhere to hide.

She considered her question again. How on earth could she face him as Ladybug, knowing what she did, knowing him the way he didn’t know he knew her (and god wasn’t that sentence confusing in and of itself)?

For God’s sake Marinette, it was a peck of a kiss at the most, pull yourself together!

“You’ll figure it out.”

Alya’s voice sounded lightyears away, so stuck was Marinette in her own musings. She jumped, a little sheepishly, and realised she hadn’t noticed Alya coming over to her until the spinning desk chair was pressed right by the chaise. The next moment, Alya’s hands were in her hair. Having thoroughly fixed her own short curls, she now concentrated on the silky strands of Marinette’s loose locks, braiding little plaits as if they were children at a sleepover.

Marinette let her. Two perfectly groomed heads were better than one.

“You think you can talk to him about it? As you I mean, not Ladybug,” Alya suggested, quickly clarifying her meaning whilst tugging the red ribbons loose from Marinette’s dark hair.

Snorting in response, Marinette couldn’t help but roll her eyes. Talk? To Chat? The very idea…

“Yeah sure, let me just tweet at him Ayla. Hashtag balcony make-outs,” she giggled, feeling a little better as her hair fell around her shoulders.

Foregoing the braids, Alya reached up and began tying something new into Marinette’s hair, tutting in disapproval. “Slide into the DM’s at least girl, I raised you better than that.”

They shared a laugh, settling into a comfortable silence as Alya worked on both sides of her hair. Marinette sat back and mulled over her options. Truth be told she didn’t have many. She couldn’t talk to Chat, after all it wasn’t likely he’d be back and she had no idea who he was in real life. The notion that she could talk to him as Ladybug, thus revealing herself, made her rapidly descend into a panic so sharp that she quickly pushed that thought to the side.

Really there was nothing else to do but call it what it was. A blip. A crazy alignment of stars which had given her a taste of everything she’d wanted for the past four years, a reminder that it was probably all she was going to get.

She tried not to let the disappointment settle in her bones, yet it was fruitless. Her chest ached as though a hole had been carved there.

Suffice to say it was a familiar ache where Chat was concerned, but it was bigger now.

“There. Done,” Alya pulled back, pleased with her work, and Marinette stood. Stepping over to the vanity mirror, she leaned down to check her reflection. “Matching colours for you and the bae,” she teased, eyebrows wiggling from underneath her rounded glasses.

Marinette threw the cushion at her again, feeling a smug sense of satisfaction as it smacked her right in the face.

At the very least, she had the Gaming Club that night, that would provide a very welcome distraction.

***

Adrien was on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

Which was ironic, considering he’d joined the Gaming Club to avoid that exact thing from happening.

“I can’t do this, I’m going to cancel,” he whimpered, hiding out in the bathroom a floor above their usual meeting place like the coward he was.

“So cancel,” Plagg shrugged, busy amusing himself with unfurling a roll of toilet paper- as per his usual hobby.

“I can’t cancel!” Adrien replied, horror struck as he gazed at himself in the mirror. His fingers gripped the sides of the sink so hard that his knuckles turned white. “Are you insane?!”

“So don’t cancel,” Plagg’s disinterested monotone was really starting to grate on him. “Honestly kiddo what do you want me to say and will it get me food faster?”

The resounding groan from Adrien’s throat was so despairing in nature that he was afraid he’s start rumours of a ghost haunting the building. He leaned on his elbows, burying his face into his hands.

Stupid. He’d been so, so, stupid. And reckless! Totally reckless. What had he been thinking?!

It was worth it though, a small, unchecked part of him thought. Adrien squashed it flat in an instant. After all there was no time to consider the fluttering in his chest, the pleasant swoop of his stomach. Now was the time to face the consequences of his actions. His incredibly foolish, totally moronic actions.

Because, although a part of him ignited, burned in the best possible way, at the memory of Marinette’s lips against his own, another part felt thoroughly ashamed. It felt like he was tricking her in some way. Granted that had never been his intention. His plan had been simple. Leave the rose on her balcony for her to discover. She’d never know it was him and be happy at the gift from a secret admirer. Obviously, things hadn’t worked out the way he planned, though he should have anticipated that.

When had things ever gone the way he planned?

He needed to apologise to her, as Chat, and he was going to do so that night in fact. But before that Adrien needed to pretend, he needed to lie, to Marinette. To the girl he loved. He needed to act like he hadn’t heard her soft sigh, felt the warmth of her skin and the taste of her cherry-blossom lips. He had to fake it, act like it had never happened.

He had to pretend he didn’t desperately want it to happen again.

The idea of being so fake made him ill, and so he placed his hands under the cold water tap to splash his face, allowing the iciness of the water to penetrate his senses and offer him some much-needed clarity.

It didn’t really work but it was the best he could do.

When he entered the Gaming Club, Plagg tucked securely inside his jacket pocket, he was relieved to see Marinette talking to other people. He could barely look at her, the meagre glimpse he’d gotten from across the room had sent his heart cartwheeling down the corridor and somewhere into the next arrondissement.

Not wanting to look suspicious, and fully admitting that he was stalling for time, Adrien wandered over to the desk where Nino was hooking up an old Nintendo console for one of their signature Mario Kart nights.

Mario Kart…Marinette…partners… sitting close together… oh no.

“Hey bro!” Nino chirped, offering Adrien a fist to bump, clearly not noticing how the blood had completely drained from his friend’s face. “Everything ok?”

“H-hey! Everything’s good!” The first lie of the evening. How could Adrien have forgotten it was a Mario Kart night? More importantly, how was he going to survive the evening now? Sitting next to Marinette, shoulders pressed together, watching her tongue poke out in concentration like it normally did? How could he concentrate on anything knowing how close he’d been to said tongue the night before?

Grow up Adrien! You aren’t some horny teenager and Marinette isn’t a prize to be objectified. Show her some respect already!

If Nino had thought Adrien’s reaction was strange, he didn’t show it. Together they settled into an easy conversation, Adrien helping his friend set up the old console. Focusing on such a menial task did wonders for his nerves. He was almost starting to feel normal. Almost.

Of course, just as he was beginning to relax, Marinette had to tap him lightly on the shoulder.

She might as well have given him a 1.21 gigawatt electric shock, given his reaction to both was about the same. If he’d been Chat Noir at the time, his superpowers might have actually propelled him through the ceiling.

“A-Adrien?” Marinette tilted her head, taken aback by his startled shriek. “Are you ok?”

Subconsciously, Adrien’s hand reached up and he clutched his chest, fingers burying into his jumper as if it would cure the frantic beating of his wild heart.

Because she was there, right in front of him. Marinette. The girl he’d kissed last night.

His eyes flicked down to her lips before he could help himself.

“Adrien?”

The second time her voice permeated through his cloudy mind, something snapped inside of him. It was as if he were a character in a film, once played in slow motion, now fast-forwarding.

“Hey!” he cried, louder than he intended, and the people around him turned to stare. He looked at her eyes instead, with far more intensity than normal, mainly because he was so intent on not looking at her lips any more. “Marinette! It’s my friend- Marinette! My good friend, I’m good! How are you? You good- good? Yeah, I’m good, friend. How are you? Did you have a good Valentine’s day?”

WHAT?! Adrien’s brain-filter kicked in far too late, but began screaming at him nonetheless. Why would you ask her that? WHY?! You know how it went! YOU WERE THERE!

Marinette blinked, and it proved just how far gone he was that he found her blinking adorable.

Her blinking.

“Umm,” she blushed, unsure of what to say and, honestly, Adrien couldn’t blame her. He sounded insane even to his own ears, and he’d just asked her something quite private. Actually, he was surprised she wasn’t berating him for it. Then again, she thought he didn’t know about her encounter with Chat Noir.  His words may have seemed innocent to her ears.

What a mess Adrien had gotten himself into, and it only seemed to grow worse with every bit of word-vomit he expelled.

(Was it bad that he felt a tiny bit of pride at her blushing? Probably. But he was going to hell anyway so he might as well enjoy the slow descent at least a little bit.)

Tucking her hair behind her ear, Marinette glanced baffled at Nino, whom Adrien could see shrugging from his peripheral vision.

But he couldn’t care less.

Because he’d just noticed her hair. Or, more specifically, how she was wearing it.

In place of the red ribbons usually tied into her loose black locks, were two green ones instead. Vivid green. Chat Noir green.

His brain collapsed in on itself.

“I’m good-good too.”

Marinette was teasing him. She was grinning and she had green ribbons in her hair and Adrien was going to DIE.

“Good! That’s good!”

Great. He’d always wanted to die sounding like a partially strangled mongoose.

Marinette, mercifully, took pity on him and waved a controller in his face, offering him a place in the first race of the evening. He sighed, relaxing a little, but only a little. Gaming was fine. It was a welcome distraction, as long as he didn’t sit too close to her he’d be fine (who was he kidding? Of course he was going to sit close to her). At least, when he was focused on blue shells and Bullet Bills his brain couldn’t fixate on the meaning behind Marinette’s ribbons, if there was any hidden symbolism he was missing.

Suddenly the thought of seeing her that night, of apologising, seemed that much more dangerous- forbidden almost. But he had to do it. He owed it to her as her friend. Even if that’s all he could ever hope to be.

Nino still hadn’t finished setting up, and a few other members began helping him in their eagerness to get started. As a result, Adrien found himself more alone with Marinette than ever.

They sat down on the floor, controllers in hands, side by side. Their shoulders brushed, like they always did.

Adrien swallowed, wishing he’d worn a t-shirt instead of the woollen monstrosity currently overheating him.

He was fairly sure he was going to lose the game spectacularly.

His fears were proved right when, later that evening, Marinette’s knee brushed against his own and he ended up sending Donkey Kong careening off the end of Rainbow Road.

It was going to be a long night.

***

For the fifteenth time that evening, Marinette called herself an idiot.

Because she was an idiot. An idiot for standing on her balcony, an idiot for hoping lightning would strike twice in the same spot, an idiot for following her heart…

Tightly wrapping her cardigan around her, she gazed out into the mocking skyline. The bitterness of the cold February air was nothing compared to the bitterness she felt building up like sludge in her chest. Bitterness in her fortunes, bitterness in her decisions, bitterness in her own feelings.

Distantly, Marinette thanked the stars that at least it wasn’t as cold as it usually was. She was thankful she had a tiny shred of dignity left at least- that she wasn’t freezing to death in the vain hope that Chat Noir would show up again.

She reached up, fingers brushing against her lips, and remembered.

Furious with herself, Marinette shook her head, as if the rough gesture would expel all the unwanted memories from her mind. Honestly what was she doing acting like a silly sixteen-year-old with a crush? Again?! It was desperate, obsessive, ridiculous-

And totally in character if she was being honest with herself.

She needed a break. A breather. A respite from her own whirlwind emotions regarding the man in the black mask, the man who’d held her heart for longer than she cared to admit to anyone- not even Alya.

Stuffing her hands in her pockets, Marinette let out one last frustrated sigh before turning on her heels and making her way back to her room. Maybe her room would be less of a reminder, would save her from her torment.

But, as usual, fate had other plans for her.

Because, of course, Chat Noir happened to be standing there as if he’d suddenly popped into existence.

The shock of seeing him sent Marinette stumbling backwards with a cry, tripping over a flowerpot and tumbling to the ground.

“Whoa!” Chat called, rushing forward to catch her just in time. One hand gripped her flailing wrist, the other pressed against the small of her back as he pulled her towards him.

For a moment, both of them froze in place. Chat’s fingers splayed across her back, and she briefly felt the edges of his clawed-gloves scratching gently against the fabric of her cardigan. An involuntary shiver ran up her spine before she could control it.

Chat’s eyes widened and he stepped out of their half-embrace with awkward, jittery movements, casting his face away from hers. “Sorry,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his head. “Sorry I shouldn’t have startled you. I guess I have a bad habit.”

Bad habit huh? Marinette had one of those too.

The silence which settled on them both was heavy, uncomfortable, and borderline unbearable. It was laden with memories of the night before, swirling around them, echoing in their minds as though they were standing in an empty theatre, watching their mistakes projected on a screen with no means of escape.

Because it was a mistake… wasn’t it? She hadn’t meant to kiss him, he probably regretted kissing her back. That was why he was here- of that she was sure. To think he was here for any other reason was just asking for a broken heart.

But, oh god, it hadn’t been a mistake. Not to her. She couldn’t ever consider it to be such.

Finally, Marinette could take the silence no longer. Taking a deep breath, she fixed a smile onto her face, painted a picture of a girl who had herself together at least a little, and placed a hand on her hip.

“No rose tonight?”

Chat’s cat-ears twitched. He peered over at her with a puzzled frown before he realised she was teasing. Something dark crossed his eyes and Marinette forgot how to breathe. The look was gone before she could concentrate on it fully, and she found that he was smiling back at her.

“Err, n-no. No. That is- I mean- unfortunately not,” he replied with his signature bow. “But I do have something far more important.”

“Oh really?” Marinette squeaked, inwardly cringing at how lame she sounded. She’d wanted her voice to be sensual and teasing, but instead it sounded like she’d inhaled a ton of helium instead. Clearing her throat, she tried again, arching her eyebrow for good measure and all the while thrilled at the fact that he was simply there. Chat Noir was there. He’d come back to her. “What’s that?”

“An apology.”

Marinette’s blood ran cold.

“About last night,” Chat continued, shuffling from foot to foot, completely unaware of how Marinette’s body, mind, and heart had seized up all at once. “I feel like I made a terrible impression. I- well- I’m not the type of guy to do… what I did.”

From the depths of despair and panic, Marinette felt the faintest hints of confusion. She latched onto it. Confusion was better than rejection.

“What do you mean?” she asked, her voice small and vulnerable, wrapping her arms around herself.

“Well I’m not really a playboy or anything, despite what the media likes to speculate about me. I don’t kiss strangers on balconies. I guess, I didn’t want you to have the wrong impression about me.”

When Marinette hung her head, Chat felt a wave of regret wash over him. He’d practiced what he wanted to say, over and over again but it never seemed enough to fully explain himself- not without revealing to her that he was Adrien Agreste and he’d been lying to her this entire time. He was too afraid of the ramifications of that- so he needed to end this now- before he hurt her.

Damn it, he’d gotten so close though. So close to knowing what they could have- what they could be.

But it was a fantasy. Chat Noir was a large part of him, but it wasn’t all of him. The person he was behind the mask was locked away from Marinette, was a separate entity in her eyes.

Who was he fooling? They couldn’t be together. Not like this.

He had to try harder as Adrien and if she rejected him he would simply pick up the pieces of his broken heart. He would respect her, be her friend, move on, and certainly not use Chat Noir’s hero status as a means to trick her into loving him. She deserved better, deserved the world, even if he wasn’t the one to give it to her.

That’s why he had to leave. Right now. Being here, being this close to her, was crumbling his resolve. Every cute gesture she made was another step closer to his damnation. He had to leave before he said or did something he’d regret, before his principles were lost to the wind.

“It was Valentine’s day. I guess… it’s easy to get swept up in the romance of the day, right?” Marinette said. She was smiling, but the sparkle in her eyes was dulled somehow. Once again Chat’s attention was drawn to the green ribbons in her hair, as she quickly tucked a few strands behind her ears. He couldn’t bring herself to speak as she grew distant, deep in her own thoughts, and her shoulders raised. “But if we’re being honest Chat, I was worried you’d see me in a bad light too. Like- I mean- I’m not the kind of girl who kisses random celebrities and I’m certainly not the type to blab to the press about it either.”

“I didn’t ever think you were,” he uttered, swallowing thickly, and a little bit of sparkle returned to Marinette’s eyes. Her cheeks turned pink again.

Chat felt his claws digging painfully into his palms.

“Well… that’s a relief. I mean I always admired you,” Marinette stammered out the confession before she meant to, quickly covering her blunder with half-truths. “You know you saved me once- from an akuma. You didn’t notice me at the time, and it was years ago, but I never forgot.”

Chat felt as though he’d been physically struck by her words.

He’d saved her? He’d saved Marinette? And he hadn’t noticed her?!

“I wish I’d seen you,” he said before he could help himself. The rest of his desires remained unsaid, as new possibilities, new what ifs, formed in his mind- like an alternate reality.

Chat inwardly cringed. No way in hell was he going to get any sleep that night.

“I wish you’d seen me too,” Marinette admitted.

Chat’s hand was halfway to hers before he yanked it back, his heart beating wildly, his mind screaming at him to leave. The pull was almost tangible, magnetic, drawing him closer to her. It was dangerous, and he needed to leave.

“I hate to be a sundae, but I have to split!” he laughed, high and fake, all the while cringing at what was perhaps the worst pun he’d ever made. And that was saying something.

Marinette didn’t say anything, but laughed once.

Ok, she thought, maybe she was ridiculous, but he was equally so. Maybe that’s why she loved him so much.

She watched him make his way to the edge of the balcony and something stirred inside her, the raw feelings which had sparked when their lips had met woke from their slumber, and she reached out to touch his shoulder.

“Chat?” her voice matched the soft tremors echoing through her body, and she tried to remember to breathe. She couldn’t let him leave like this, she’d been so close. “How about…one last kiss?”

Chat stilled, statue-like. His lips parted, and Marinette panicked.

“I mean!” she corrected, face turning to flames, “I mean sorry that was dumb- so dumb. It’s just that I- I liked that kiss and I thought- I don’t know what I thought- but I wanted to-”

His lips crashed into hers, and the rest of Marinette’s sentence was lost forever.

Chat kissed her, kissed her with a resolve thoroughly destroyed and a heart so indescribably owned; owned by her, possessed by her, consumed by her. His hands were frantic, and Marinette matched him in every way as they pressed into each other. Her fingers gripped the back of his head, tangled in his hair, and pulled him closer.

Like he needed an excuse to get closer to her.

The pair of them moved apart to breathe, great shuddering breaths, and then their lips were together again- as neither of them could stand to be apart for a moment. Chat’s fingers slid from her hands to grip her hips, a primal, dark part of him triumphant as he heard a moan slip from Marinette’s mouth.

They stumbled backwards, towards the wall, and Chat pressed her against it, hands roaming her sides- never going too far- always listening to her reactions. Desire coursed through him, a need to please her, to make her moan again, without pushing too far.

She must have sensed him falter, sensed his caution, as a frustrated hum rose from the back of her throat, almost like a purr of her own. Her hands moved from his hair, gripping the bell around his throat, and she tugged him down towards her, kissing his neck.

Chat was having a hard time not passing out from that alone, but then she rolled her hips, making it so there wasn’t a sliver of streetlight between them, and he was fairly certain he died and was reborn on the spot.

Dangerous was the word whispering in his mind, the word he was ignoring as his hands cupped the sides of Marinette’s face, tilting her head back. She arched into him again, countering his movements like a dance, and he gasped.

It felt too natural, too perfect… almost…familiar.

Dangerous he thought as his tongue flicked against her lips.

Dangerous- he thought as her mouth opened and he was rewarded with another moan.

Stop. Stop before you can’t, he pleaded with himself as Marinette’s hands wrapped around his shoulders, her fingernails scratching against his neck.

He didn’t stop.

They kissed for what seemed like hours, passion moving from an explosive force to one of slow-burning sensuality, settling into a rhythm that was far too natural, but neither of them could bring themselves to mind.

It was a long time before Chat could bring himself to leave her, to stop kissing her. It was addictive, intoxicating, and filled with promise. For months his heart had been starved, yearning and wishing, and now it was real. Their kisses were real, her affections were real.

And so was her voice, ringing out in the coldness of the night, in answer to his question, “May I see you tomorrow night, Princess?”

There was a pause, both of them treading on thin ice, ice which slowly creaked and groaned beneath their feet.

“Yes,” she breathed, and the ice shattered, plunging them both into unknown depths.

(art to follow)

You’re In Love With Him But He Likes Your Best Friend

Masterlist linked in bio 


Harry’s been drinking all night.

It all started off with Savannah, whom he went to Lexi’s Bar with a couple of friends. It was a tradition they all had that carried throughout the past couple of months. Because Friday night meant cheaper alcohol, and Y/n’ s closing shift.

They were all having a good time, Y/n serving them drinks and they all drank their week away. It was just a night of celebrating the end of the week, where stress could be left behind for at least a couple of hours.

Everything was great until Harry got too handsy. It wasn’t his fault, he thinks, they had been talking for months and he had no particular reason to refrain himself from wrapping his arms around Savannah, considering she’s let him do it many times before.

But tonight, she wasn’t going near him, which was a drastic change from her previous attitude with him earlier that night.

So now, he’s stranded at Lexi’s Bar past closing hours, tipsy out of his mind. Savannah left without a word, abandoning him at the bar with no other ride home. 

Jesus, Harry!” Y/n gasps, her hand instinctively reaching for her chest when she makes her way back to the bar. “What the hell are you still doing here?!”

Their friends had left a while ago, only Harry remaining slumped against the bar with an empty glass of Malibu. She wasn’t aware of his stay, in fact, it was her closing shift and the bar had closed twenty minutes ago. Only the slight sound of the radio and the clanging of dishes Y/n was washing could be heard throughout the scene.

He looks like a mix of frustrated and upset, a clear shadow of sadness in his eyes as he looks up at her. He frowns a bit, looking back down at the empty glass that’s fiddling in his hands as he lets out an almost inaudible sigh.

“Do you mind driving me home?” he asks guiltily, “Savannah was my ride but she’s not really speaking to me right now.”

Y/n furrows her eyebrows at the softness of his words, an evident tone of helplessness when he spoke. She nods her head slightly, reaching over to grab his finished drink.

“Gonna wash this real quick,” she mutters, “you can grab your coat, I’ll be right out.”

Harry nods while shooting her a small smile through his frown. He’s always been extremely appreciative of her efforts with him. He knows damn well no other person would be able to treat him the way she does. She put him first, always, and it had always been something Harry never fully understood. She went out of the way for him whenever he needed it most, without the smallest hesitation. And if he needed someone to talk to, even if it was about the horrendous traffic on his way to work, she was always there to listen to him.

He can’t lie, he feels guilty that it’s her closing shift and she’d have to be driving out of her way in order to take him home. But in all honesty, he had nobody else. Savannah left without a word after Harry tried desperately to get her attention, his other friends following shortly after in one car, leaving Harry stranded alone at the bar with Y/n still working. So, really, this was his only option.

When Y/n returns to the front of the bar, she remains silent as she grabs her coat off of the hanger. She looks at him from the corner of her eye, watching as his fingers rub harsh circles against his temples, a gesture he’s always done when he was stressed. He shook his head slightly, shutting his eyes tightly as he fixes the jacket hanging swiftly from his shoulders.

She bites her lip, curious eyes wandering around his slumped frame. Seeing Harry distressed makes her feel upset. Witnessing him at a time of stress was extremely rare, and something about it makes Y/n’s stomach drop. He was always so positive, always making sure the people around him were smiling. He has the type of personality others strive, because he’s so selfless and effortless at everything he does, it’s the part of him Y/n always loved and admired.

“What happened? You okay?”

Harry lets out a frustrated sigh, his nose flaring as he closes his eyes momentarily.

“Savannah’s just so confusing sometimes. I like her a lot, but she’s hard to keep up with. It’s like she’s into me one minute and the next like I’m completely wasting her time, you know? I don’t know what she wants from me anymore.”

Y/n nods, understanding completely what he’s talking about. Savannah often does this to him—to most guys, actually.Because of how different they both are relationship-wise, it’s almost impossible for Harry to adjust to Savannah’s ‘hard to get’ character. Harry prefers to not waste any time when it comes to dating. If he likes someone who reciprocates feelings, he immediately takes action. That’s how he always was with his past girlfriends, taking no time to start a relationship with them.

Savannah, however, loves the game. Being chased amuses her, almost makes her feel as if she’s worth something. Because of her undoubtable beauty and irresistibly charming personality, she always makes the man work for her liking. Her character always made guys frustrated but exposed them to an entirely different relationship. Her hot to cold attitude made men feel intimidated, yet motivated them to catch her. Because, undoubtedly, she’s the ultimate catch no guy could ever ignore.

It had always been that way, too. When Y/n and Savannah both hit puberty, Savannah was the irresistible one. Her figure curved at all the right edges, her tan complexion naturally glowing, and she started to expose herself to new people.

She wasn’t shy of anything. Any opportunity to take on a challenge called Savannah’s name. She was constantly seeking adventure and finding new people to get along with. Which, of course, wasn’t hard at all. Everyone liked Savannah, it was almost impossible not to.

Y/n, however, was the exact opposite. She was beautiful, but not ‘Savannah beautiful.’ She was paler, not a spot of makeup on her face. Her body was a bit more frail than hers, her curves not as extenuated. She was more introverted, as well, only speaking when she felt was necessary. The only way she was able to make friends was through Savannah’s courageous behavior.

And although Savannah and Y/n had an unbreakable bond since middle school, being Savannah’s best friend screwed up Y/n’s love life tremendously. It hurt Y/n a lot throughout her high school years. Being best friends with the most beautiful girl wasn’t easy for her, if anything, it made her feel less about herself. It’s the exact reason why she hasn’t dated in years. Because guys Y/n liked always ended up falling for Savannah.

Which is exactly what’s happening with Harry.


Y/n first met Harry when she began working at Lexi’s. It was her first Friday night shift during the summer. It was her first week after training, so she wasn’t quite used to the busy weekends and late hours, but she didn’t mind it.

She was rearranging glasses at the bar when Harry first walked in. Her breath hitched in her throat when she first saw him enter. She could have sworn her heart had jumped out from her chest in that very moment. He was beautiful, a different kind of beautiful, too. He was so effortless at it—the way he moved and the way he presented himself; he had confidence in himself without flaunting it.

He was wearing tight black jeans with a pink floral see-through button up, flowing loosely from his shoulders. His chest was in great view, as well, the cross hanging from his necklace dangling perfectly between his pecs. His hair was freshly cut, his face freshly shaved and had an aroma of a cologne Y/n wasn’t familiar with. It was unique, though, like him, and all-in-all made him more attractive than she already perceived him to be.

Her eyes went wide when he claimed the barstool in front of her, her actions coming to a halt as her eyes hawked over his every move. She genuinely forgot how to breathe, his physical features overwhelming her in ways she’s never experienced before. The world around her seemed to fade as she admired every part of him she could see.

He was just so breathtaking.

It wasn’t until one of the other bartenders dropped a glass onto the floor that Y/n was pulled out of her trance. She quickly shook her head, slowly coming back in touch with reality. Thankfully, he hadn’t seemed to notice her presence yet.

She shook her head again before working to dry the remaining shot glasses. She just had to make it a couple of hours without completely embarrassing herself in front of him, that’s all she had to do.

Her eyes drifted slightly to him again when he lifted his right leg up against the unoccupied barstool next to him, leaning over before his fingers started working to retie his shoelace.

“The usual.” he spoke, eyes still cast downward.

Y/n looked around behind the counter, checking to see if he was talking to someone else. Considering she had just started working there a week ago and hasn’t served him yet, she was completely clueless as to what he was ordering.

“Uh..”

He looked up from his shoes, eyes diverting right into hers as a sense of realization reached his features.

“Oh, I see,” he giggled, “Sorry, love. I wasn’t aware there was a new bartender in town.”

His voice was both raspy and smooth in the most elegant way she’s ever heard. His accent was so incredibly thick she could visually see it by the way his lips moved. And his giggle, with the slight smirk he developed made her heart flutter in her chest.

Y/n nodded, smiling slightly at him.

“Yeah, just started a week ago. Nobody’s ever ordered ‘the usual’ before.” she joked, nervous laughter falling from her lips as she tucked loose pieces of hair behind her ear.

He grinned at her, his cheeks turning a bit peachy. He had to admit, she was gorgeous, and clearly had a great sense of humor. He could tell she was shy, though, by the way she wasn’t confident in her words and the way her cheeks flushed whenever he spoke to her.

“Cute” he muttered ever so slightly, Y/n almost thought she imagined it, “‘The usual,’ at least for me, is a Malibu Bay Breeze. Bit heavier on the cranberry juice, a bit lighter on the pineapple.”

Y/n nodded, muttering a quiet “coming right up” before gathering the ingredients. Harry watched her as she poured it all together, mixing the essential ingredients, admiring her gestures and movements whenever he said something that made her smile.

They talked for hours that night, getting to know each other. Y/n was mesmerized, completely and utterly captivated at how somebody like him could possibly exist. He was everything she’s ever dreamed of—there wasn’t any part of him she didn’t find alluring. This was the only time she’s ever spoken to him, yet she found herself feeling something she’s never felt before.

And the feelings only got stronger with time. Every Friday for four months, Y/n found Harry coming into Lexi’s earlier than he usually did, and every time he’d come she prepared him a Malibu Bay Breeze—heavy on the cranberry, light on the pineapple.

He stayed with her until closing, until the last light went off and the music went down. And after she was off her shift, he took her to the 24-hour movie theater that hardly anybody went to in those early hours of the morning. Instead of watching, however, they spent the entire movie goofing around with popcorn and sharing fond memories of their childhood.

To say Y/n had fallen hard for Harry was an understatement. She was completely and unconditionally in love with him.

The feeling he had given her never subsided—he never failed to give her a feeling of euphoria whenever he spent his Friday nights with her. And the more he opened up to her, and the more she opened up to him, the more it felt right. He felt right, no part of her doubted that for a second. He captured her heart and she knew there was no way in hell she was ever getting it back.

Savannah even began to notice her shift in mood ever since her Friday night shifts began. It was as if she turned into an entirely different person. She seemed more confident in herself, and Savannah started noticing the softest of smiles illuminating on her face every so often.

Y/n was the happiest she had ever been before, she swore she was on cloud nine. Y/n started to believe nothing could have torn her down. Nothing.

But then, it happened.

Savannah showed up to Lexi’s during Y/n’s regular Friday night shift. It was a little past midnight, arriving back from her aunt’s wedding—which Y/n would have attended if she didn’t need the money (and if it wasn’t during her shift Harry was a frequent customer in).

She ran in with a long eggplant purple dress, which had a long slit along the leg. Her hair curled in perfect waves that fell loosely down her shoulders, her makeup illuminating and extenuating her flawless features.

“Y/n!” She squealed, scurrying her way to the bar while nearly tripping over her six-inch heels.

Y/n saw Harry’s eyes widen at the sight of her. Of course she visited her when Harry’s here, and of course, she visited when she looked as beautiful as ever. Y/n knew the second Savannah walked in that it was over, every possibility of her and Harry building up to a relationship has been knocked down to the ground.

Y/n closed her eyes momentarily, because she started to feel every part of her heartbreak, and it was the most painful feeling she’s ever felt. Harry’s only seen Savannah for a couple of seconds and he was already looking at her in a way he never has with Y/n.

She gritted her teeth harshly, because how did she think this wouldn’t happen? This was always how it ended, and even if Harry ever liked Y/n enough to start a relationship with her, she wouldn’t be able to hide him from Savannah forever.

“Guess what!” she yelled once she found her way to the bar, leaning against it so she was as close as possible to Y/n.

“What?” Y/n smiled weakly, unable to rid the aching in her chest.

“The photographer at the wedding asked me to be a model for his pictures! And not only that, but he just started working for Top Shop, said he could talk to some people for me to make this work! Can you believe it?! Savannah Turk, next top model! Gosh, I’m so excited!”

Y/n smiled widely. It was always Savannah’s dream to become a model, and she could definitely pull it off. In all honesty, she was shocked she wasn’t one already.

“That’s great, Savannah!” Y/n gasped, “I can’t believe this! I’m so happy for you!”

They both reached over to hug each other, Savannah jumping up and down as small squeals fall from her lips. Once they let go, Y/n is quick to fix up Savannah’s favorite drink as she claims the barstool next to Harry.

Harry’s heart began to race as she scooted closer to him. She was completely breathtaking. He had never seen someone like her before, every part of her intrigued him. She drew him in, and there was no way in hell there was any chance of going back.

“I’m Harry, by the way.”

Savannah let out a slight “push” as she waved her hand in the air.

“I know, Y/n doesn’t shut up about you.”

Y/n’s eyes widened, but quickly refrained against her shocked expression as she let out a nervous laugh. God, they couldn’t know about her feelings, because she hadn’t told anybody about how she felt about Harry and certainly wanted to avoid talking about it while he’s practically gawking over Savannah.

Harry looked up at Y/n with a playful smirk resting perfectly on his face.

“Well, who else is going to get me through my Friday night shifts?” Y/n laughed.

Harry lifted his drink up to her, eyebrows lifting as he smirked at her, “And who else is going to get me through my loneliness, eh?”

Ouch.

Savannah’s eyebrows lifted, a wide grin on her face as she looked over to Harry. And by God, he surely was a sight to see.

“Oh, so ‘Friday night shift boy’ is lonely? Don’t know why Y/n hasn’t taken advantage of that yet,” Savannah smirked, “I know I would have.”


Y/n nods again, mustering up a sympathetic smile to him. She doesn’t want any part of Savannah’s games to make him feel bad about himself. None of what he’s feeling is his fault, and every atom in her body aches for him to know that.

“I’m sorry, Harry” she whispers, “I know how much that can hurt, you don’t deserve it.”

He gives her a soft smile, but it falls just as quickly as it spreads. His gaze falls to the floor, eyebrows furrowing as he shakes his head softly.

“I just can’t keep doing this with her.”

His soft and Bambi eyes look up at her in sorrow, a frown stretched on his lips at the strain his heart has endured.

“I don’t know what more I can do, Y/n.”

And as selfish as it sounds, the first thought that comes to her mind after the hopeless words leave Harry’s mouth is you can love me back.

Because, God, if he loved her, she wouldn’t keep him waiting. She wouldn’t keep him under the impression that he’s not good enough. No, Harry’s fulfilled every part of her wildest dreams, and she would never let a day go by without making him feel the way he deserves—loved.

Despite her selfish thoughts that she desperately wishes she could say to him, she pushes them all aside. Harry needs her, he needs her to be the friend that will be there for him in the latest hours of the night. He needs her shoulder to lean on, and she can’t deny the chance to help him through this and make him feel better.

She doesn’t respond to him, only slinging her bag around her shoulder and pointing her head toward the exit doors.

“We can talk about this later, yeah? Lets just get you home first.”


The ride to his house was silent, mainly consisting of the soft tune on the radio and Y/n’s hushed voice singing along. With the alcohol still buzzing inside Harry’s head, he didn’t mind the silence they shared. It was comfortable because Harry wasn’t in the mood to discuss his anticlimactic relationship with Savannah. He just needed someone to listen to him, to be there for him, and Y/n was his favorite company.

When they arrive at his house, Y/n is basically carrying Harry to his door.

“Yeah, alright, you—that’s right, you’re good” she huffs, the weight of his body making it a struggle for her to walk.

He isn’t drunk enough for her to completely guide him, but he is stumbling a bit and does find himself tripping over his own two feet a couple of times.  

Y/n giggles, shaking her head as she walks him through his front door. 

“I knew I shouldn’t have made you that many drinks. Thank God you weren’t planning on driving, that would have been a mess.”

Harry doesn’t have much time to respond before she sits him down on his couch. She runs her thumb along his forehead softly, wiping away some of the sweat before smiling at him softly.

"Gonna make you some tea, now.”

Harry shakes his head, his hand reaching to grab her wrist.

“Love, you don’t have to,” Harry shakes his head, “you’ve been making everybody’s drinks all night.”

She shrugs, a small smile tugging on her lips.

“I don’t mind. You’re upset, I want to make sure you feel better, alright? I know that Savannah does this to you and I don’t—“ she pauses, closing her eyes softly, “and I don’t want you to keep thinking that this is your fault.”

His heart swells at her words, his large hands reaching out to grip her small ones.

“Would you mind just—just lying down with me for a bit? I don’t want the tea, just need your company right now.”

Y/n frowns slightly, and she isn’t sad because she doesn’t want to be with him. What makes her sad is the intimacy of holding him would give her no chance to escape her feelings. Whenever she feels the heartbreak sneaking back up on her, she always finds a way to distract herself from the pain. Whether it was rearranging her bedroom, organizing the books on her bookshelf, or focusing on her work, there was always a way to escape the pain.

But it’s when she feels him—whether it’s the touch of his hand, or a rub of the shoulder—when she feels his skin ignite her and when she feels the warmth of is body against her, there was no running away from the harsh reality she’s been living in. There is no escape from the thought that she’s in love with someone she can never have because all she feels when she feels him is broken.

And it’s in these moments she finds herself being most selfish. Because he needs her now, holding him, reassuring him that everything will be okay. He’s going through the same feeling she is, and all she can think about is her stupid self and her broken heart, even when he needs her most.

She lays down on his couch first, which Harry finds particularly inviting. He lays with his head face down against her neck, legs tangled in between hers with his arms wrapped around her back. He loves cuddling with her. She’s just so soft, and she feels cozy, especially after he drinks heaps of alcohol. He hasn’t cuddled with her for a while, either, and holding her against him now already makes his shitty night somewhat tolerable.

“Thank you for being with me, Y/n” he mumbles against her collar bone, the fabric of her t-shirt moving against his lips. “And I’m sorry I made you drive me back.”

She giggles softly, her fingers brushing through his messy bed of curls. She feels him relax into her the more she rakes his hair, and he doesn’t hesitate to keep her motions going.

“It’s okay, didn’t have any other plans. Besides, I kind of miss being alone with you sometimes.”

He hums in response, pressing his cheek further into her neck. His eyes shut, his body relaxing to the sound of her heartbeat, which he feels thumping perfectly against his chest.

“S’good to me” he mumbles, “don’t know what I’d do without you, you know.”

Y/n feels her heart skip at the words he spoke against her, her whole body getting an overwhelming sense of despondency.

“Harry, I—“

“I think I’m gonna keep fighting for her” Harry interjects.

His voice is slurring now, his half-asleep daze making his words all jumbled. But he knows what he’s saying, and Y/n knows, too, and her heart plummets. Her throat suddenly begins to choke on cries she wasn’t aware had come so quickly. It’s just another reminder, just another confirmation that Savannah always gets what she wants, even if Y/n wants it more.

“Yeah, I’m not gonna give up on her yet. If I like her, I gotta fight for it, right? She’d be well worth it, too.”

Y/n tries desperately to blink away her tears, and she’s forever grateful that the light is off in his living room when she fails to do so.

“I—I think you should do what you want, Harry” her voice shakes as she speaks, “I’ll be here for you either way.”

Harry holds her tighter, humming in response again, because he’s already falling asleep and finds no energy in him to answer her.

She wishes with everything in her that she can scream, scream at him for being so fucking stupid and oblivious to her love. And the worst part is that she can’t even blame him. She had an entire four months where she could have confessed her feelings, where she could have told him how in love with him she was.

But would it have changed anything? Would they have just ended up in this shitty situation anyway?

And it isn’t until Harry’s passed out on top of her, his breath spreading along her chest and his fingers rubbing her back in his slumber that Y/n realizes she could spend forever laying here with him, all wrapped up against his body. She could fall asleep like this every night, after a long day of work and empty wine glasses on the coffee table. She could see everything, everything she’s ever envisioned, with him.

And it’s in this moment she realizes that she can’t keep doing this anymore, either.

Her cheeks dampen with her tears, hands shaking in his hair. Never would she think she’d have to let him go, but seeing his face rest so peacefully on her chest, she knows she has to.

“I love you, Harry.” She cries, her fingers gripping onto the roots of his hair.

God, Harry, I love you so much.” she sobs.

If Harry wasn’t such a deep sleeper, she would have never dreamt of saying all of this. But he’s remaining asleep, lips parted as he snores, the alcohol in his veins making him almost immobile against her.

“You deserve to be happy, Harry” she whispers, “I shouldn’t hold you back.”

Her body is shaking, soft cries leaving her lips and endless tears streaming down her face. She doesn’t want to let go, she doesn’t want to stop loving him in the way she does now. Because even though it hurts, she doesn’t want to imagine a day without him.

But she has to. For him.

Her thumbs rub along his cheekbones, her eyes admiring his features one last time.

“And it’s because I love you—“ she pauses, swallowing thickly as her shaking lips press tentatively against his forehead, “that I have to let you go.”

This was so sweet my teeth hurt~ Thanks for this! X3

-Admin Bloo~

Yoosung

  • After a long gaming session on LOLOL, both of you were shocked to see how late it had become.
  • “It’s really late.” “Yeah, it is.” “…” “Do you want to stay over…?” “Uh, yeah…sure”
  • SAVE THESE AWKWARD SOULS.
  • Eventually, it is decided that you guys will have a sleepover in the living room!
  • There was about two feet distance when you both first settled in.
  • That shrunk to a few centimeters in the morning.
  • Apparently, you both hadn’t anticipated how cold it would be. So you unconsciously snuggled into each other overnight.
  • Morning comes in, and you are just unwilling to let go of the warmth, burying yourself deeper in.
  • Your hair tickles Yoosung’s nose, and it wakes him up.
  • He sleepily pats your head, trying to identify what it is.
  • And you look up to see what’s happening, and find his bright purple eyes staring back at you.
  • You can feel his breath fanning your cheeks; there is barely any distance between you two.
  • Then you both jump out and try to pretend that didn’t happen.
  • Both of you were a blushing, stammering mess everywhere for the rest of the morning.

Zen

  • He was so excited to have you sleep over for the night.
  • He insisted that you sleep next to him on his bed, it is more comfortable than either of them on the couch.
  • He knew that he couldn’t take it too far; you had only just met face-to-face.
  • When morning came, you noticed that he had an arm wrapped tightly around your waist.
  • You turned around to find him awake; smiling at you.
  • “Good morning, MC” He whispers as he pulls you closer to press a light kiss on the forehead.
  • While you were in the shower, Zen was congratulating himself while preparing a light breakfast.
  • He was feeling very smug.
  • Take that, trustfund kid. I am a real gentleman.
  • Only to drop whatever he was holding the minute he sees you in his spare clothes since you had nothing to change into.

Jaehee

  • You two were planning to binge-watch the entirety of any musical Zen has ever been in.
  • You were slightly skeptical of making it through ALL of them, but Jaehee was STOKED.
  • You both settled comfortably into the couch with some food within easy reach.
  • Of course, an ENTIRE NIGHT of binge watching is impossible.
  • So you both fell asleep at around 3 am, in the middle of Jalapenos no less.
  • Jaehee was the first to wake up at the crack of dawn with a horrible pain in her neck.
  • Rubbing it, she realized that you had curled up into her side, and she fell asleep while resting her head on yours
  • The drool on your face caused her to chuckle a bit, and she grabbed a tissue to wipe it off.
  • After preparing two mugs of coffee, she gently shakes you awake.
  • You could definitely get used to waking up to that smell every morning

Jumin

  • You had come to his penthouse while he was at work to set up for your first month together.
  • When he had come home to you greeting him at the doorstep with Elizabeth 3rd in your hands, he felt so tender and content and so at home.
  • You both had a fine dinner date overlooking the view from the penthouse, and chatted the night away.
  • Jumin invited you to stay over, since the guest bedroom was always prepared for you.
  • But, maybe you both had a bit too much wine that night.
  • You couldn’t let go of each other.
  • When both of you had changed into something comfortable, you settled yourself under his covers while he slept on top.
  • Eventually, you got him to come under the covers as well.
  • When you woke up in the morning, you reached out to find the bed empty.
  • You couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed that he was not the first thing you saw in the morning.
  • You then trod to the kitchen to find him with his shirtsleeves rolled up and wearing a pink frilly apron, flipping pancakes.
  • “Good Morning, MC. I hope you slept well.” He smiled and brought a pile of pancakes to the table.

707/Luciel

  • “Prepare yourselves for the ultimate sleepover held by your very own defender of justice, 707!”
  • Saeran just gave you a look and said “I’m going to my own room.” And pat your shoulder pitifully. savageSaeran
  • You both just lay on his bed and talked about anything and everything in the dark, under his collection of glow in the dark galaxies mapped across the bedroom ceiling.
  • Eventually, you drift off to sleep, and he drapes a comforter on top of both of you and is knocked out as well.
  • You’re the first one to rise in the morning, and are immediately greeted by the sight of a drooling and snoring tomato-head.
  • He has efficiently tangled you tightly though, so you have no way of immediate escape.
  • Instead, you just look at his sleeping face, commiting the image in front of you to memory.
  • You’re still not used to seeing him without his glasses on, so you lightly trace a vague outline of them on his face.
  • When you reach the bridge of his nose, his face scrunches up a bit.
  • The sight is too much; you start giggling softly.
  • This wakes him up, and he feel like he is flying.
  • Seeing your beautiful smile first thing in the morning is literally heaven.
  • He pulls you in tighter, jokingly threatening to never let you go. You play along, lightly shrieking as he tickles you a bit.
  • You are both interrupted by a loud knocking on the door.
  • Feed the hungry Edgelord™
Sleepless

Summary: You and Sam both have insomnia, so you find a way to entertain yourselves.

Warning: smut

Word Count: 1550

A/N: It’s been a while since I wrote Sam x reader. Hope you enjoy! XOXO


12:36 AM

Insomnia does weird things to a person.

Under no other circumstances would you be sitting in the library of the bunker, reading about the weaponry forged in fourteenth century Japan to combat a monster that was essentially an ocean-dwelling werewolf.

Yeah. Can’t make this shit up.

Keep reading

have you ever been in love? - reggie mantle

word count: 2.328 (oops)

warnings: swearing, i mention death like once

plot: a quiz about love makes reggie think about you

a/n: plot was inspired by this . i wanted to write something short and cute and now it’s 3am and i wrote this long ass thing

part 2


“Alright, class,” The teacher spoke up, grabbing everyone’s attention. “Hence today is Valentine’s Day, I thought I’d give you all a short, small quiz!”

The announcement was met with a collective groan.

“It’s not that kind of quiz.” The teacher began handing out papers, a smile on their face. “It’s about love and even though it won’t get graded, try to answer the question seriously, don’t joke around.”

Keep reading

Hair, Sex, and Make-up

Being the youngest hair and makeup artist for the idol boy group BTS was your dream. Since you finally got to achieve it things were great and although it was hard being the youngest on the crew you knew that they loved you. You became close to the boys, but more so to Jungkook since you were the same age. However it seemed like things were going to change.

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 6k


Originally posted by officialwookkibby



“Yah, ___. Can you grab my makeup bag for me?”

“Yes, unnie.” You frowned in concentration and looked at Yoongi apologetically before running across the room and grabbing the forgotten make-up bag. Being the youngest hair and makeup stylist for the idol group BTS had it’s ups and downs. The boys loved you and you were close to many of them but the older girls bossed you around a lot.

Keep reading

rocknrollphanda  asked:

Could you maybe make a list of your favorite 8th year drarry? I read Lumos and now I need more so I was wondering if you had anything worth recommending ;D?

Good to Me (And I’d Be So Good to You) by AWickedMemory (ReadyPlayerZero) Words:8905

Everyone returns to Hogwarts after the war, but nothing is quite the same. Harry’s groupies are creepier than ever, Ron and Hermione are snogging all over the place, and the once-proud Draco is shuffling around like a kicked puppy. But that’s okay: Harry’s got a plan.

Battle Scars by SeaweedPrincess Words:29831

Spiders, rats, wrongly-boiled Veritaserum, a couple of dangerous bets and drunk parties – all with all, it was bound to be a hectic eight year at Hogwarts for the golden trio. Trying to ignore the ex-Death Eater Draco Malfoy, however, turned out to be more difficult than ever before. Especially when he seemed to be as obsessed with Harry as Harry was with him. DRARRY. SLASH. Rating may go up in future chapters.

Then Comes a Mist and a Weeping Rain by Faith Wood (faithwood) Words:21139

It always rains for Draco Malfoy. Metaphorically. And literally. Ever since he had accidentally Conjured a cloud. A cloud that’s ever so cross.

Hey, Potter by SunseticMonster Words:16024

Harry returns to Hogwarts for his 8th year, determined not to let Malfoy get to him. But when the snarky teasing starts up again, Harry finds that returning the jibes with compliments has a far more interesting outcome.

Lumos by birdsofshore Words:41478

Harry never expected to spend eighth year listening to Draco Malfoy wanking.

Zero to Hero by Cheryl Dyson Words: 10,632

Harry returns to Hogwarts for his “8th year” in order to pass his N.E.W.T.s and make it into the Auror program. One of his classes is Muggle Studies and the new teacher has a brilliant idea to help them appreciate certain forms of Muggle entertainment.

The Ties That Bind Us by Faith Wood (faithwood) Words:27890

An accident leaves Draco and Harry bound tightly together. Literally.

Matters of Influence by anathema91 Words:19198

Draco should have taken his NEWTs over the summer with Pansy and Greg. Repeating 7th year with Potter fresh off his saved-the-world tour struck Malfoy as the height of stupidity more than once. McGonagall’s diabolical plan only made things worse. Or did it?

A Time to Move On by SESHETA_66 Words:15500

With the war behind them, and wounds still raw, the students at Hogwarts try to work out what their futures might hold for them, and perhaps recapture a little of their lost youth along the way.

Lucky Break by naturegirlrocks Words:4700

The day before Halloween Harry crashes into Draco during a friendly quidditch match. Hidden secrets come to light.

An Old Habit by fireflavored Words:8800

The boys have changed a lot over the summer after the war, but Harry hasn’t gotten over the urge to spy on Malfoy.

Simulacrum by slashpervert Words:3011

Draco sends a gift to Potter and finds himself in a difficult but erotic position.

Snowstorms and Interventions by fr333bird Words:9095

Draco is pining after Harry, but is so sure that his feelings aren’t reciprocated that he wastes a golden opportunity. Pansy comes to the rescue and takes matters into her own hands to ensure a happy ending.

Marginal Notes by blamebrampton Words:9398

When you’re 18, and nothing is as it was meant to be, sometimes it can be hard to let the right people know what you are thinking.

An Act of Simple Devotion by blamebrampton Words:13368

It’s a age-old story. You fancy a boy and you think he fancies you. Sure there are problems – attacks on former Death Eaters, crazed tabloid journalists and your girlfriend – but you have a cunning plan. Now if he’d only explain the L. Ron Hubbard-like references …

Say Anything by alovelycupoftea Words:6000

When Draco loses his reserve and starts speaking his mind, Harry realises something is very wrong.

Deserving by Cassis Luna Words:2612

From the prompt: “What if one day everyone was brewing Amortentia and Harry walks in. Of course, he doesn’t know what they’re brewing, so the first thing he says is ‘Why does the room smell like it’s drenched in Malfoy’s cologne’ and then everyone, including Draco, just looks at him.

Right Hand Red by lumosed_quill Words:73173

Harry felt Malfoy’s breath on his lips as they came together over the bottle, hands firmly planted on the floor as though they each needed their familiar soil, refusing to cross into enemy territory. Except that Malfoy no longer felt like his enemy.

Malfoy felt inevitable.

Games Night by agentmoppet Words:6805

Harry has no idea why Hermione decided that an inter-house Games Night would be a good idea, but he’s here now, and he intends to beat Malfoy, no matter what game he chooses. But, who would have thought muggle games could be full of so much… tension?

Dear Diary by AWickedMemory (ReadyPlayerZero) Words:20427

After the war, Harry picks up a journal to write in… and it writes back. Luckily, it’s not a Horcrux on the other end this time.

Days Before You Came by panicparade Words:5476

Ten days before the end of his Eighth year at Hogwarts is when Harry realises that he probably, maybe, loves Draco Malfoy.

Who I Really Am by agentmoppet Words:8541

Draco seems to have changed since the war, and is insisting on making amends for his actions. But he’s still a Malfoy, for heaven’s sake… And, it would seem, a Malfoy with a certain kink…

The Standard You Walk Past by bafflinghaze Words:46201

On returning to Hogwarts for their Eighth Year, Headmistress McGonagall decided to room Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter together. She may have hoped for a leading example of house unity; the other students fully expected insults and fights. But nothing happened.

That was, until Harry sleepwalked into Draco’s bed.

Good Company by Greenflares Words:8223

With Hermione and Ron always together, Harry’s return to Hogwarts to complete his education isn’t exactly fun. Somehow, it’s his unlikely friendship with Malfoy that keeps him sane.

Instruction For A Misplaced Slytherin by bixgirl1 Words:8579

Potter stared at him with an intense, indecipherable expression. He cleared his throat. “You know what? It would be easier to learn if you just showed me,” he said abruptly.

In which Draco has a crush but fancies himself kind, Harry is oblivious but overly ambitious (and the teensiest bit sneaky), and things get dirty really fast.

Slammed by Faith Wood (faithwood) Words:2038

Potter develops a worrying habit of randomly wall-slamming Draco all over the castle.

Mental by sara_holmes Words:186678

Harry has had quite enough of sharing his mind with someone else, thankyouverymuch. A miscast Legilimecy spell says otherwise.

‘Ohana by plumeria47 Words:11717

It started off so simple: sex whenever they wanted it, with no further expectations. But life has a funny way of turning everything up on its head.

This Is Fine by yesbocchan Words:3177

Eighth years have their own rooms at Hogwarts. It’s nice, Draco thinks, until he starts to notice the fact that Potter’s room is just in front of his.

The Morning After The Night Before by Oakstone730
Words:3599

Waking up after the Hufflepuff New Year’s Eve Party is an eye-opening experience for Draco. Prompt: Walk of Shame. Eighth Year. Warnings: Slash, Explicit, Language.

He Had Time by jeni_andtheafterthought Words:689

Harry stays up late alone in the eighth year common room until one night, Malfoy joins him.

Alive by FleetofShippyShips Words:3185

After the war, Harry is just angry, until finally, he’s not.

Vanilla and Sweet Spices by FleetofShippyShips Words:19699

After the others leave an eighth year party, Harry still has the rum he snagged off Dean. But the only person left to drink it with is Draco Malfoy.

Making Malfoy Blush by FleetofShippyShips Words:18320

Malfoy walks in on Harry in the showers after Quidditch and is surprisingly flustered. Spying the chance to embarrass him, Harry teases him at every opportunity to bring that blush back.

It’s all harmless winks and lip biting, and maybe a few heated looks; until it’s a kiss, and then another, and then Harry realises he never wants to stop.

If only Malfoy was as clear about what he wants.

The LipLock Jinx by Cassis Luna Words: 21436

It’s a jinx that renders the victim mute, unless he/she serves the purpose of the jinx and kisses the person that they desire. It’s just Harry’s luck that he’s in love with Draco. HPDM, oneshot, eighth year.

The Potter-Malfoy Problem by who_la_hoop Words:28939

The room of requirement’s gone mad — at least, that’s what Harry thinks. There’s no way that Draco Malfoy ‘requires’ him, of all people, but why does it keep dragging Harry there like he’s some kind of furniture, every time Malfoy enters it? Throw in Pansy the pervert and a clipboard-wielding Hermione, and things can only go from bad to worse. And that’s not even mentioning the pirates …

At Your Service by Faith Wood (faithwood) Words:95752  

Hogwarts students are in danger; Harry is determined to save them all. There’s only one thing he knows for certain: Draco Malfoy is somehow involved.

ENJOY!

Dialogue Prompt List 2

You can use these for your own stories, or you can request one for me to do. If there’s any specific stories you want me to do with the prompts you choose, let me know in the request.
If you do choose to do one of these prompts, tag me in it so I can read it!


1. “I feel like I’m losing my damn mind.”

2. “Gah! Why are you so cold? Get off of me you icicle!”

3. “Marry me?”

4. “God, I was so worried!” “I was only gone for five minutes!”

5. “Please don’t shut me out.”

6. “I can’t believe you haven’t noticed. I’m screaming for someone to notice, to help me, and yet no one does!”

7. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

8. “This is going to hurt, I’m so sorry.”

9. “Who did this to you?”

10. “I’m gonna kill him!”

11. “Cuddle me you weirdo.”

12. “I’m pregnant.”

13. “Are you…crying? You? Mister/Miss, ‘I don’t cry, I’m tough as hell’?”
“Oh shut up, we all have our weaknesses!”

14. “You’re part of the family now, don’t ever think you’re not.”

15. “Breathe, can you do that for me?”

16. “I’m a burden to you!”

17. “I’m better off dead.” “You’re better off alive, with me.”

18. “You’re beautiful, and if anyone says that you’re not, know that they’re damn well wrong.”

19. “You’re warm, s'great for cuddling.”

20. “Send help, the kids are out of control!”

21. “C'mere you sexy thing!”

22. “I, um, might’ve gone a little bit overboard on the shopping.” “A little bit?!”

23. “You did this all for me?” “No, I did this for Jeffrey across the street. Yes I did this for you!”

24. “What the hell is happening to me?”

25. “You aren’t dreaming, look, I’m here, this is real.”

26. “There’s so much blood, it won’t come off!”

27. “Woah, slow down, what’s going on?”

28. “I’m so lucky to have you.”

29. “You mess with her/him, you mess with me.”

30. “That’s it, you’re staying here until I can get this sorted.” “But I–” “No buts!”

31. “I don’t want to sleep alone tonight.”

32. “I love you, you know that right?”

33. “I’m coming to get you, stay there.”

34. “Okay, so don’t freak out, but I got flour everywhere…”

35. “Is it supposed to look like that?” “I think so?” “Is that a question or a statement?”

36. “Woah, I never knew you had a tattoo!”

37. “Are you safe?” “I-I don’t know.”

38. “S/he deserves better than me.”

39. “We’re more than just friends and you know it.”

40. “It’s me! It’s me! Calm down, baby, please.”

41. “What have you been doing? Actually, don’t answer that, I don’t want to know.”

42. “Is the movie too scary? I can stop it if you want and we could watch something else.”

44. “Touch her again, and I’ll kill you.” “Will you? Because last time I checked, petty threats don’t do shit, ____. They just piss me off more.”

45. “You don’t mess with my family.”

46. “What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

47. “Please don’t leave me.”

48. “Did you just slap my ass?” “Actually, I firmly grasped it.” “Did you just quote Spongebob?

49. “Beautiful.”

50. “Let her/him go, please! I’m the one you want!” “Oh really now? What can you do for me?”

51. “I’ve got you, you’re safe now.”

52. “And you didn’t think to tell me about this until now?” “I didn’t think it was that important…”

53. “I can’t carry on this way anymore, I can’t live like this.”

54. “You know if you wanted sex, you could’ve just asked.”

55. “Stop freaking out, you’re making me freak out! And I’m the level headed one of the house!”

56. “Please don’t do this, your family needs you, your friends need you, I need you.”

57. “You can’t hide from me!”

58. “Well this is a nice change of scenery.” “_____, we’re in a prison cell.” “I was being sarcastic.”

59. “How sweet, sacrificing yourself for her, when did you get a heart?”

60. “Um, I don’t think that what you’re doing is legal, so if you could just let me go, that would be great.”

61. “I thought you said you knew where we were going.”
“Yeah I lied.”

62. “Shit, you’re freezing, let’s get you warmed up, alright?”

63. “What happened to me?”

64. “I’m not letting you sleep on the floor, get up here.”

65. “It’s not like I’m some broken vase that you can just glue back together and then expect that everything will be okay again! It doesn’t work like that!”

66. “Everything I’ve done is for you, you’re the only thing in the world that matters to me.”

67. “Are you seriously stuck right now?” “Don’t just stand there! Help me!”

68. “I can’t do the things that you can do.”

69. “Please don’t post that, no!” “Oops, too late.”

70. “What game is that?”

71. “I said create a distraction, not this!”

72. “We’re in public, stop that.”

73. “I had some food from your fridge, I hope you don’t mind.”

74. “Hand over the girl.” “That’s not gonna happen in your lifetime.”

75. “Can you stop poking me?!” “I’m not poking you.”

76. “I’ve already told you this, we’re not killing anyone!”

77. “I’m about seventy five percent sure that this bridge won’t break.”
“Only seventy five?!”

78. “I need you to be my girlfriend for about five minutes.”

79. “I don’t need protecting!”

80. “You know they’re going to use the things you love against you.”

81. “It’s locked!” “You mean we’re stuck in here?”

82. “Shut up.” “I didn’t say anything.” “I don’t care, shut up.”

83. “Hey! I was watching that!”

84. “I thought they’d killed you, I’m glad I thought wrong.”

85. “Not now, I’m busy.”
“But it’s been so long!”

Called It

A YouTuber AU SnowBaz fanfic for the Carry On Countdown

Penelope

Simon Snow’s first YouTube video is one of my favourites.  It’s as painfully awkward as any other YouTuber’s first video.  He sits up too straight in his chair, he smiles and laughs too mechanically, and the film quality itself is poor, with half of his words lost to shoddy editing. Yet despite all this, it’s adorable.

           And of course, it’s the origin of the biggest OTP on YouTube, SnowBaz.

           “Hi guys,” Simon waves at the camera, his hand going all pixelated at the movement.  “Welcome to the first video on my channel!”  He’s inserted a sound effect of people cheering.  I have to laugh.  It’s so damn cringe-worthy.

           He goes on for a few moments, trying to make jokes and jump-cuts that work, when finally, it’s everyone’s favourite part.

           “What are you doing, Snow?” comes a voice from off-camera.  My heart turns to mush.

           Baz.

           Simon’s new flatmate, or at least he was new at this point.

           “Making my first YouTube video,” Simon grins up at someone behind the camera.  “Come say hi!”

           “-bleep- no.”

           Even the censor sounds old, like it was stolen from the year 2007.

           Simon looks a bit panicked, like he’s realizing that he’ll have to edit out the swear word.  A door slams somewhere out of the shot.

           “That’s my new flatmate,” he tells us.  “His name is Baz.  He’s kind of a prat.”

           “Just you wait,” I whisper at my computer screen. “Just you wait.”

 ***

           Simon and Baz do not get along.  At all.

           That much is clear from the first video, but it become increasingly obvious as Simon posts more frequently.  He often films in the living room, which drives Baz insane.

           “Why don’t you film in your own room?” he says, audibly annoyed.

           “The lighting in there is terrible,” Simon protests.

           “Well, I’d like to be able to walk around my own flat, if you don’t mind.”

           “Go ahead, no one’s stopping you,” Simon shrugs. “Besides, the viewers keep saying they want to see you.”

           “Well, who wouldn’t?”

           Good old Baz.  Sarcastic and full of himself.  They don’t appear to realize it, but the two of them balance each other out perfectly.

           Little by little, Baz begins to make his mark on Simon’s channel.  At first we only hear him from off-screen, offering his two bits about nearly everything Simon has to say.  Many of his comments are admittedly quite mean and uncalled for, but Simon never edits them out.  Baz is the invisible heckler.  Viewers begin to latch onto this weird relationship of apparent hatred and, as YouTube viewers are wont to do, turn it into a new ship.  “SnowBaz” they call it, and before long the comment sections on all of Simon’s videos are full of things like “I ship it” and “OTP”.

           I try not to fall victim to this shipping trend myself.  It feels insensitive to me, shipping real live people that I’ve never even met like they’re objects of sorts.  But even I can’t deny that the two of them would be cute together.  Provided they stop hating each other.

           Then Baz appears onscreen for the first time.

           He’s on the couch in the background, facing away from the camera.  All we can see is long black hair.  He only moves when he’s shouting ridicule at Simon’s words.  Once he turns his head further to make himself heard, and we catch a glimpse of the light brown skin of his face.  This time the comments are all “is that Baz?” and “OMG BAZ”.

           After that he starts to appear more often. Sometimes he’s facing the screen, looking down at his phone or a book.  He’s tall, and his hair reaches his shoulders.  The expression on his face goes between concentration and a sneer, that latter of which he reserves for his heckling.  It doesn’t take long for people to start commenting on how attractive he is.  Still Simon leaves all the footage of Baz in his videos, not hiding a single rude comment from his viewers.

           Once, Simon tries to get Baz to join him for a “meet my flatmate” video.  Baz responds simply by flipping Simon off in the background, which Simon has to pixel out. He’s gotten better at editing at this point.

           Sometimes Simon posts daily vlogs on days when he does things that he considers exciting.  The things that Simon finds exciting are too cute for words.  They tend to be little events like going to a coffee shop, things that are almost mundane but for some reason they excite him. He does this thing where he dances when he’s excited.  He’ll bob his head cheerfully as he walks, glad to just be out.  He’s gone to the grocery store with Baz a few times in his vlogs.  Those videos are some of the best ones.  They bicker about everything from which kind of milk to get to who gets to carry the baskets.  Sometimes we can see Baz’s mouth quirk like he’s trying not to laugh, like all this bickering is just a game for him.  Of course, this sends the SnowBaz shippers into a frenzy, the idea that maybe, just maybe, Baz doesn’t hate Simon as much as he lets on.

           But there’s one video on Simon’s channel that is the absolute bread of life for anyone who ships the two of them.  Simon is doing a Q&A, and as usual Baz is sitting and reading in the background.

           “This question is from Twitter,” Simon says, reading off of his phone.  “They ask ‘Are you in love with anyone right now?’”

           And if you look closely, you can see Baz go rigid.

           “Well,” Simon leans in close to the camera, “I have been messaging with someone quite a lot.  I don’t know who the person is, but we’ve gotten really close and I’m starting to think -”

           “Could you keep it down, Snow,” Baz pipes up, his voice tight.  “I’m trying to read over here.”

           Simon doesn’t speak of it any further, but Baz sneaks glances at the back of Simon’s head more than once before the video is over. I don’t know how Simon could have not noticed it.  Certainly every single one of his viewers did, which is to say over a million people. Perhaps love is completely daft.

 ***

           When I arrive home from work on a particularly rainy day in October, I am delighted to open my computer and find that Simon is in the middle of a livestream.  Comments flow constantly from the sidebar and I settle in to join the party.  He’s in a different room this time, one with a neatly made bed on which he sits, and I gather that it’s his room.  It looks so clean, but I wonder if there’s a disaster hiding behind the camera.

           Simon leans towards us like he’s trying to read all of the comments and questions as they flood in.  He gets a lot of I love you’s and he grins in response, trying to return as many of them as possible.

           “I’ve got to go soon,” he tells us and I sigh in disappointment, “but I’ll answer a few more questions first.”  He’s quiet for a minute as all the viewers catch up with the stream.  “Here’s one: ‘Did you find out who was messaging you so much?’”  He pauses before answering.  “Funny you should ask, because yes, I did, and that’s a perfect segway into what I wanted to talk about.”  He shifts on his bed.  “I have a bit of an announcement -”

           His door opens behind him, and Baz in all his glory appears in it.

           Comments start flying in of “BAZ” and “OMG”

           “What are you doing?” Baz asks without a hint of a sneer in his voice.

           “Just filming a live show,” Simon tells him. He seems… nervous?

           “A live show, eh?”  Baz strolls over and – wonder of wonders – sits down on the bed next to Simon.  We’ve never seen him this close to the camera, and his eyes are this lovely mix of gray and green.

           We’ve also never seen him this close to Simon before.

           My heart kicks up a notch.  I’ve fallen down the slippery slope and now there’s no denying that I ship it completely.  I grab a pillow to hold to my chest and go into fangirl-mode, overanalysing every inch of their proximity.  With a click I maximize the screen, blocking the other comments from my view.  I want to see every pixel of this.

           “I was just going to make that little announcement,” Simon says, staring at his hands in his lap.

           “Ah,” Baz nods, apparently understanding.  “Go on, then.  Carry on, Simon.”

           Did he –

           Did he just call him Simon?

           He never calls him Simon!

           “I can’t do it if you’re here!” Simon protests.

           Baz gives a shrug.  “Then I’ll tell them.”

           He takes Simon by the collar and kisses him.  

           I scream into my pillow.

           Simon and Baz are kissing, right now, in front of millions of people.

           I can practically hear the collective aneurism that the fangirls are currently having.

           They’re still kissing, and Simon is grinning against Baz’s mouth.  It’s the most genuine smile he’s ever graced the internet with, and it’s not even for us.

           I’m tearing up, I’m so happy for them.

           Baz lets Simon go and turns to smirk at the camera. “That one’s for all you SnowBaz shippers out there.  Don’t think we don’t know.”  He winks. He fucking winks.

           And then he leaves.  

           Simon turns back to the camera, his cheeks red and his lips puffy.  He grins sheepishly.

           “Um, yeah,” he stammers, “that’s what I was gonna tell you about.”

           I tap the comment box.

           pennyforyourthoughts: Called it.

Out of the Frying Pan, Into the Inferno - Reggie Mantle x Reader Imagine

Warnings: Some swearing, some yelling

Request by @stevrgers:  hey could I request an imagine where the reader has a thing with reggie but it’s super lowkey and reggie wants to keep it that way because he wants to keep her out of the playbook (cause he really cares for her) but the reader perceives his secrecy of their relationship as him being embarrassed to be seen with her by his friends/the school and reader gets upset & reggie is torn cause he wants to tell her about the book but also doesn’t want to get in trouble by the team for exposing their secret

Hope you enjoy it! I’m sorry if it seems a little disjointed. I tried to jam so much into it and it got so long (almost six pages on Word), but here you are!

Keep reading

Secrets- Riverdale X Reader chapter 1- The rivers Edge ((Jughead Jones))

Originally posted by betty-and-jughead

Fandom: riverdale

 Warnings: none

 Word count: lots

notes: let me know if you want more of this! is anyone actually interested?

_____________________________________________________________

 You studied yourself in the bathroom mirror intently. You still looked the same.

Same (E/C) eyes, same (H/C) hair. But you weren’t the same, not after what had happened over the summer. 

After that summer, nothing could ever be the same.

 The girl in the mirror was you, but you had no idea who that was. On July 3rd of this year, your mother had told you a closely guarded secret about the circumstances surrounding your birth, the reason your mom had left riverdale, and who your father really was. She felt you finally needed to learn the truth.

You were a Blossom…well, sort of.

When Cheryl and Jason’s mother was pregnant with the twins, their Father, Clifford Blossom, had developed a wandering eye…and it had wandered straight to your mother. They had been together 2 months before your mother had found out she was pregnant. 

So, your father had taken immediate action. He had paid your mother two hundred thousand to take you and herself far away and to keep her mouth shut.
But when your Grandmother got sick, all bets were off. 

So your Mother had sat you down and told you everything. Including that you were moving back to Riverdale within the week, a town you had both left behind you, and for good reason.

The next day, Jason Blossom had gone missing.

-
-
-
Nearly 3 months later and here you were, getting ready for your first day of school at Riverdale High. It was terrifying having this huge secret weighing you down, especially when your newly discovered half sister went to your school. 

You ruffled a shaky hand through your hair and walked out of the bathroom. The last thing you needed was added attention from being late on day one.

You left your house and stepped out into the warm September air.

You walked towards the school, the slight breeze making the residual summer heat a little more bearable.

When you got to the high school, it was swarming with teens. Each one in their own little world, greeting friends they haven’t seen in months with warm smiles and thankfully, ignoring you.

You wandered in to the school caught up in your thoughts and anxieties, before running smack into a blonde girl, her hair pulled back into a tight ponytail.

You lost your balance and went tumbling, taking the blonde girl with you. You hit the ground with a thud and she landed next to you right after. Face flushed red in embarrassment, you jumped up and started apologizing rapidly “Oh crap are you okay? I’m so sorry!“ 

The girl just waved a hand, dismissing your frantic apologies, “It’s fine, I’m alright. Don’t worry about it.“ 

Even with her reassurances, you still stuck out a hand to help her up, which she took and got up on her feet. You knew you had to be somewhere, but you still felt kinda awful.                                                                                                 

"Hey, are you new?” the girl was looking at you with curiosity.

You shrugged, “Yeah I guess I am. My names (Y/N) (L/N)”                                       

The blondes face instantly lit up in recognition, “I’m Betty Cooper, your peer mentor!” Betty gave you a warm smile, which you hesitantly returned “Guess it’s a good thing I ran into you then, huh?” you laughed nervously.

 
Betty nodded at you with a smile. “I guess it is. Anyways, now that I have you, just follow me. I’m also mentoring another new student named Veronica Lodge.”

You knew that name, everyone did. Her father had been in the news for months, but you decided to keep your mouth shut. It wasn’t any of your business who Veronica’s father was or what he had done. You hoped the sentiment would be a two way street.

You caught up to a raven haired girl at the office. Her and Betty exchanged pleasantries. You didn’t really listen to the small talk but you figured this was Veronica. 

Betty and Veronica started walking. You quickly caught up and walked alongside them.

 "Soooo…I usually start off my tours with a little history and context” Betty began, “Riverdale High first opened its doors in 1941 and–”

Veronica cut Betty off mid sentence. “And hasn’t been redecorated since, apparently. Honestly, I feel like I’m wandering through the lost epilogue of our town.” you smiled at Veronica’s comment. The school seriously did have a ‘vintage’ sort of air.

Veronica was talking again, “So whats the social scene here like? Any nightclubs?”

Before Betty could answer, a new guy with brown hair and a green sweater came up beside you, before moving in front, walking backwards to be face to face with the 3 of you. “A strip club called the Ho Zone, and a tragic gay bar called Innuendo.” Your lips quirked up at the edges at the ridiculous club names.
Green sweater continued his list of social activities.

“Friday nights, football games. And then tailgate parties at the mal-mart parking lot. Saturday night is movie night, regardless of whats playing at the Bijou. And you better get there early because we don’t have reserved seating in Riverdale. And Sunday nights? Thank GOD for HBO.”

Betty smiled as the boy wrapped a friendly arm around her shoulder, “Veronica lodge, (Y/N) (L/N), Kevin Keller. Veronica and (Y/N) are new here, Kevin is–” Betty started to introduce the three of you but was once again cut off by Veronica, “Gay. Thank god. Let’s be best friends.” She stuck a hand out for him to shake. 

You gave him a smile and a polite “Hello” but Kevin’s attention was on Veronica.
Kevin took her hand and gave it a quick shake, before leaning in conspiratorially. 

“Is it true what they say about your dad?” he said in a semi hushed tone. Betty shot him a warning glare and you inhaled a sharp breath. But Veronica just took it in stride, a noticeably more guarded expression on her face. 

“That he’s the devil incarnate?…I stand by my father.“ 

She crossed her arms and gave Betty a pointed look, "Does everyone here know?” Betty and Kevin were silent, refusing to meet her gaze. “Judging by the looks you’ve been getting? I think so.” You blurted out before you could stop yourself.

Veronica gave an annoyed tight lipped smile, “Wonderful. Ten minutes in and I’m already the blue jasmine of riverdale high.”

Veronica stormed off and Betty gave Kevin another pointed look. Kevin shrugged and shook his head. 
"What?” Kevin asked, but instead of answering, Betty just followed Veronica. You followed Betty, Kevin close behind.

By the time you had caught up to Betty, she and Veronica were already back to chatting about Riverdale Highs social calendar. So you just fell into step beside them.

“So there’s everything Kevin already told you and- oh, of course, there’s the back to school semi-formal dance this weekend–” Betty was yet again cut off by Veronica who grabbed her arm and stopped Betty mid stride with a little gasp of excitement. “There’s the hottie you were with last night. The red-headed Ansel Elgort.”

You leaned over to Kevin “If the boys all look like that, I’m going to love Riverdale.” You joked, Kevin responded with an amused snort. 

Before you could continue your jokes about the attractive Riverdale male populace, Veronica was talking again. “Is he your boyfriend?” You were pretty sure the question was aimed at Betty but Kevin answered too,

“No we’re just friends” was Betty’s answer and "No, he’s straight.” was Kevins.
The three of you looked at Kevin, smiling in amusement at the mix up.

Veronica had an intrigued smile on her face as she watched Archie, “In that case, mind putting in a word? I’ve tried every flavour of boy but orange.”

By the look on Betty’s face you immediately knew that was a touchy subject.

“Actually, to clarify, Betty and Archie aren’t dating, but they are endgame.” Kevin informed Veronica, causing her to immediately switch gears and give Betty a matter-of-fact look. “You should ask him to the semi-formal then.”

“She should, but I heard it might be getting cancelled, because of what happened to Jason. They’re going to tell us at the assembly." 

Your breath caught at Jason’s name, a bit of paranoia gripping at you. Did he know? There was no way he knew, nobody did.
"Who’s Jason?” you rushed out in a slightly too high tone. You figured asking who he was would let you play dumb about the Blossom family as a whole. Veronica added on, “and what happened to him?" 

Betty and Kevin shared an awkward silent look, their mouths open like they were looking for the right words.

Betty was quiet as Kevin explained the July 4th incident, You knew already. You had googled the Blossoms two days after your mother had told you the truth of who you were. Just in time for you to learn of the fatal accident that took the life of an older brother you would never meet.

After Kevin was finished explaining, everyone was quiet as you walked to the gym to attend the assembly. A heavy silence hung over the four of you.
When you reached the gym you stopped dead.

 Cheryl Blossom would be in this room. As Kevin reached to pull open the doors you managed to speak. "It’s awful what happened to Jason. I hope Cheryl is going to be okay…” three pairs of eyes were immediately on you, “None of us mentioned Cheryl (y/n), how do you know who she is?” Kevin asked, his and Bettys expressions were confused and Veronicas was suspicious.

You swore internally. “I heard one of the students talking about her earlier, I just put two and two together at the name Blossom.” You lied with ease. You had always been quick at thinking on your feet…even if you hated lying.

Betty and Kevin nodded accepting your answer, but Veronicas suspicious gaze lingered on you. You were going to have to be a lot more careful around Veronica Lodge.

Your group filed into the crowded gym. Pretty much all the seats were taken except 3 near the left bottom corner and a few singles scattered around. The four of you eyed each other awkwardly.
“You guys go ahead, I’ll be fine by myself.” You smiled at them. Betty looked relieved, and then a little guilty, “Are you sure (y/n)?” You nodded “Totally sure.”

Kevin grinned. “Catch up with us after, I’ll continue to be your designated Riverdale guide.”
“See you after.” you replied, before wandering off to find a seat.

You ended up sitting next to a guy with black hair and an odd grey beanie up in the back corner. He made no acknowledgement of you when you sat down, typing away at his laptop. He was definitely interesting, you could tell that. But before you could say anything, a girl with striking red hair had begun talking.

What she said next was lost to you, all you could hear was blood rushing through your head and your pulse pounding. That was Cheryl. It was so surreal, her being 40 feet away from you, with no idea who you were. You were strangers to each other, but still siblings. Still family. But she would never know. No one could ever know. You registered her asking for a moment of silence to reflect on how Jason had touched each of the students lives, as you tried to push away the onslaught of new and powerful emotions.

The boy next to you was watching you intently, silently observing your odd reaction to Cheryls speech. The way you were gripping the seat so hard your knuckles were turning white. When you looked back and him he diverted his gaze and went back to typing.

You managed to get a grip on yourself and calm down, the earlier aura of panic, switching to bored and collected with practiced ease. You bottled stuff up, always had. That was something that hadn’t changed. 


Cheryl was speaking again and you immediately turned your focus to her.
“Thank you for that moment of silence. Many of you were lucky enough to have known my brother personally. Each and every one of you meant the world to Jason.”
Cheryls voice was calm and collected, which you thought was impressive for someone who had just lost her twin.”

But maybe Cheryl Blossom was just like that. You had no frame of reference.
“I loved my brother. He was, and always will be, my soulmate. So I speak with the confidence only a twin could have, Jason wouldn’t want us to spend the year mourning.”

The boy next to you fidgeted as Cheryl talked. You bounced your leg and tried to remain stone faced beside him. You glanced at him to see he was already looking at you. You figured it was just because you were the new girl. But his eyes seemed like he was seeing something more, trying to figure you out instead of just looking.

“Jason would want us to move on with our lives. Which is why I’ve asked the school board not to cancel the back to school semi-formal. but rather to let us use it as a way to heal collectively.–”

People all around you were cheering enthusiastically at the news about the semi-formal. Cheryl had a smile on her face that seemed genuinely warm and sincere.

“–and celebrate my brothers too, too short life on this mortal coil. Thank you all.” Cheryl walked off the small makeshift stage and exited the room.

You grabbed your bag and left through the side door as soon as the assembly was over. You had a spare block and decided to just get some air. You needed the distraction, the break.                                                                                   You sat down under a giant tree with, just enough shade to block you from the lingering summer heat. You grabbed your sketchbook and a pencil from your bag and flipped to a blank page.

You had no idea what you were drawing, you just let the pencil flick across the paper, creating lines. Pretty soon there was a familiar face staring back at you.

Cheryl.

Oaper Cheryl looked like she was scared and upset, angled away like she was running from something. You had no idea why you had drawn it.

You immediately ripped it out of your book and crumpled it up, setting it beside you to be thrown away later.
You had just started scribbling a quick sketch of a little bird that was flitting around on the ground in front of you when an unfamiliar voice startled you out of your bubble.

“So you’re an artist?”

You whipped your head around, looking at the boy from the assembly leaning against the tree.

You brought the sketchbook close to your chest defensively, “I’m drawing, so I guess I must be.” You eyed him apprehensively. “Who are you exactly?”

He shifted his laptop bag on his shoulder. “Jughead Jones. The Third. I sat next to you at the assembly.”

You raised an eyebrow in curiousity, “Jughead Jones the third. That’s…unique.”

He nodded once, looking at you expectantly.

“My names (Y/N) (L/N)–” you paused, a hint of a mischievous smile on your lips. “the first.”

Jugheads lips quirked up for a split second, before switching back to the calculating look he wore at the assembly.  

“So (Y/N), you had a pretty strong reaction to cheryls speech. Did you know Jason?”

You instantly went on the defense. Your arms crossed against your chest and your expression became guarded. “No. I didn’t know anything about him before today.” you lied.

Jughead looked like he didn’t quite believe you, his eyes searching your face for signs of deception, and his expression was hard to read. You can almost see a little press cap and vintage camera. He reminded you of a reporter and that put you more on guard. “I just lost my best friend who was part of a pair of twins. I guess it just hit home.”

Another lie.

Jughead still looked a bit suspicious, but seemed to accept your lie for now. He opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by Betty calling your name.

“Well, that’s my cue to leave.” Jughead remarked dryly before turning and heading in the other direction.

Betty walked over to you and greeted you with a smile. “Hey (Y/N), we didn’t see you after the assembly.”

“Yeah, sorry I just needed some air." 

Betty nodded, her ponytail swishing behind her. "Well, do you want to join us for lunch?”

You smiled, one of the few genuine smiles of that day, “I’d actually love that.”
You packed up your stuff and reached for the balled up sketch from earlier, but it was gone. You hadn’t thought the wind was enough to move it today, but you figured you had misjudged. Not that it really mattered, people didn’t exactly inspect trash. You grabbed your bag and stood up to follow the two teens.


Betty and Kevin made a Beeline for the Red-headed boy from earlier, who was sitting alone at one of the picnic tables scattered around the courtyard. When the three of you sat down he looked up and greeted Betty and Kevin with warm smiles. His eyes were filled with confusion when his gaze landed on you.

Betty quickly introduced you, “(Y/N) meet Archie Andrews.”
Archie gave you a nod of acknowledgment “Hey”

You gave him a small smile and short wave in greeting.

Archie turned his attention to Betty and pulled out a laptop. He started talking but you weren’t listening.

Jughead was staring at you from across the outdoor seating area. You ended up staring right back. His eyes were locked with yours, both of you daring the other to look away. After about a minute Betty’s voice snapped you out of your weirdly intense staring contest.

“(y/n) are you okay? You’re kinda spacing out.”

You blinked a few times to clear your head. “Yeah sorry. Just daydreaming, I guess” You glanced back over to where Jughead had been but he was gone.

Betty nodded and looked at Archie, “Alright, now that (Y/N) is paying attention, you HAVE to play your song for us.”

Archie looked a tiny bit apprehensive but you didn’t think that has anything to do with you. It was the same feeling you get when people ask to see your drawings.
Archie sighed in resignation and hit play, a soft melody pouring through his laptops speakers. it was actually really good, something you hadn’t been expecting.

The song had only been on for about 30 seconds when Veronica walked up to the table,

“Can I join?” Veronica asked with a polite smile.
Archie closed his laptop, and Betty smiled at her “yeah.”  

Veronica moved to sit down with the rest of you, “What are we doing?” Veronica asked.

A proud grin broke out onto Bettys face. “Listening to one of Archies songs.” She leaned closer to Archie.

“I thought we were gonna have to pretend to like it, but its actually really good.”
You grinned at Kevins comment. You actually had been dreading the possibility of pretending to like Archies song, you honestly didn’t have the energy.

“Yeah I actually really really liked it.” You smiled at Archie. You had really liked his song, and hoped one day you guys could actually hear the rest.

Veronica looked kind of confused as she shifted in her seat, “Wait, that was you singing something you wrote?”

Archie looked away “It’s rough.”
Betty, who was starting to sound like Archies personal cheerleader, contradicted him. “No, it’s great.” she said, that huge grin still on her face

You glanced away. Jeez, Betty had it bad for this guy.

“It’s incredible, actually. The little snippet I heard. Is that your thing? Music? Are you doing something with that?” Veronica asked Archie while Betty watched her with a weird expression.

Archie nodded and took a sip of his drink, “Yeah, that’s the plan.” He immediately changed the subject. “So, how’s your guys first day going? good?” this seemed to be directed at you and veronica. You didn’t really have an answer so you just let her answer as you shrugged.

“Not to be a complete narcissist, but I thought people would be more–”
Kevin cut her off, “Obsessed with you? Any other year you’d be trending number one for sure. This year though, its all about Cheryl trying to win the best supporting psycho Oscar for her role as Riverdale Highs bereaved red widow." 

You bristled at this,
"She just lost her twin brother, Kevin. I think you’d be a little messed up too, especially in an accident like that.” Your tone was cold and a switch from the tables previous friendly banter.


An awkward silence fell over the table. Everyone looked a little uncomfortable at your comment and gave you curious looks. After a few moments Archie grabbed his bag “I should go. Meeting with Grundy, then football tryouts.”

Veronica smiled “You play football too? What don’t you do?” she quipped as Archie walked away from the group.

As soon as he was out of earshot you wiggled your eyebrows at Betty, “That right there is a damn good pick Betty.” She ducked her head in embarrassment.
Kevin looked at Veronica and you, “Before you guys ask, no she has not invited-”

Betty suddenly looked kind of panicked and shot the three of you warning stares, “No, not yet. and don’t talk about Archie.” then she quickly went back to nonchalantly eating her food as Cheryl Blossom herself approached your table.

Cheryl walked up to the table and put her hands on her waist, a sickeningly sweet smile on her face. The shock and panic from earlier had worn off for you, now Cheryl’s presence was just a fact.

“Veronica Lodge. I’d heard whisperings– I’m Cheryl Blossom.” Cheryl had that off-putting smile on her face the whole time she spoke. “May I sit? Betty, would you mind?”

Without waiting for a response, she sat down as Betty frowned a bit and slid down to the seat directly across from you and Kevin. You shot Betty a sympathetic look as Cheryl turned her attention to the rest of you. You noted that she hadn’t bothered to introduce herself to you, even though you were new as well.
“So, what are you four hens gossiping about? Archies efron-esque emergence from the chrysalis of puberty?” Cheryl had a conspiratorial smile and Betty shook her head as a warning for you and Veronica.

“Extracurriculars. Weatherbee wants me and (y/n) to sign up for a few.” Veronica switched the focus off Archie. At the mention of your name Cheryl finally acknowledged you, looking you up and down with a judgmental stare. You shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. Cheryl seemed to deem you not totally offensive and flashed that fake smile at you as a way of acknowledging your existence.
“Cheer leading! You must. I am senior captain of the river vixens.” Cheryl moved her hair to her other shoulder and watched Veronicas reaction intently.
“Is cheer leading still a thing?” Kevin said before Veronica could answer. You stifled a laugh at the statement and the almost genuine look of confusion on his face.

Cheryl fixed him with a cold stare, annoyance lacing her tone. “Is being the gay best friend still a thing?” She then turned back to Veronica and switched back to cheer leading.“Some people say its retro. I say its eternal and iconic.” She wore a proud smirk.

“At Spence, I sat at the top of the elites pyramid. I’m in.” Veronica said, then looked at you and Betty. “Betty, (y/n) you’re trying out too.”
You just nodded, you had no intention of trying out for cheer leading but weren’t going to say anything in front of Cheryl.

Cheryl looked at you and Betty, once again with that judgy stare, “Of course! Anyone’s welcome to try out.” Cheryl looked down at Bettys plate of food with disdain, “But Betty’s already got so much on her plate right now…And being a vixen is kind of a full-time thing, but open to all!”

You clenched your fists at your sides, your temper getting the better of you. Any sympathy you may have felt for Cheryl was rapidly fading.

Cheryl got up from the table and addressed you and Veronica, “Follow me on Twitter and I’ll do the same. my handles @CherylBombshell” and with a smile she turned and walked away.

Veronica smiled in relief as soon as Cheryl was gone. “Okay go ahead and hate on cheer leading but if Hipster prince Harry–”
Betty interrupted veronica, “Oh, I’d love to be a cheerleader. It would look good on my college applications. But, last year when I tried out Cheryl said I was too fat.”

“Too season 5 Betty Draper. It was a great line.” Kevin the looked guilty and amended with “But not all all true.”

Immediately your already flaring temper got the best of you, “Seriously? Is that what that plate crack was about? that was so rude and uncalled for.”
Kevin hummed in agreement and Betty nodded sheepishly.

“I agree with (y/n), that was a total bitch move. But you’re a total smoke show now, I mean it. As hot and as smart as you are…you should be the Queen Bae of this Drab hive…look, if you want to be a River Vixen, I’ll help you prep. I have moves. You too (y/n), we can all tryout together.”

You vigorously shook your head, “Thanks for the offer, but cheer leading isn’t my scene. I’m going to have to pass. I’ll totally come and provide Moral support though.”
Veronica looked a tiny bit disappointed but nodded in acceptance, “Alright (y/n) is out, how about you Betty?”

Betty looked deep in thought for a few seconds before smiling broadly at Veronica, “Okay, you know what? Show me your moves.”
You grinned at Betty, “I bet it doesn’t hurt that Archie will get to see you at the game, in your cheerleader uniform.”
Betty flushed a deep red and Kevin and veronica both laughed light heartedly. The rest of lunch period was passed in good natured teasing and friendly banter. 


-
-

On the day of the semi-formal you were a lot more adjusted to riverdale, Cheryl was just the schools resident mean girl and Jason was just some boy who had passed away over the summer essentially they were strangers to you. It didn’t matter that they shared a common parent anymore, It was a secret that would be kept, and hopefully completely ignored.

You were walking home from the nearby 7-11 when your phone chimed with an unread text notification. You unlocked your phone and a text from Betty filled your screen.

’(y/n) do you need a ride? we’re going to the dance at 7’
You grinned at your phone.

‘we? meaning you and Archie? ;)’
a few minutes passed with no response before Betty finally answered,

‘We meaning Veronica, Archie and me.’
You frowned at the message, Betty had apparently lost her nerve.

damn :( but no, I don’t need a ride I live like 2 blocks from the school.’
You waited for a response but Betty never answered, You figured she had been caught up in some pre-dance prep or something, and continued on your walk home.

You arrived at your house a few seconds later and unlocked the door. An empty silence greeted you, your mom was away on a business trip.  Your mother worked as a freelance consultant for big corporations and had to travel alot because of it, so you were usually alone in the house.

Growing up you had a housekeeper that would take care of you, but she had died a few years ago. And by that point you were old enough to take care of yourself, so most of the time it was just you.
When your mother was home she would generally be with your grandmother at the retirement home, your grandma had developed dementia and wasn’t usually lucid as of late. But you weren’t close to her so it was harder on your mother than on you.

You shook the depressing thoughts from your head and wandered into the kitchen and put your bag down. It was around three and you still needed to do some homework before getting ready for the dance.
You grabbed the books from your bag and plugged in your headphones, starting on your latest English assignment.

-
-

Four hours later you were all dolled up and headed to the school, your heels clicked on the pavement as you walked, your hair was down and jostled lightly in the cool breeze.

You walked up to the schools front doors and could already hear music pouring from the gym. You walked in to see Betty standing alone.
“Hey, wheres Veronica and Archie? aren’t they your companions for the evening?”
Betty smiled a little sadly and opened her mouth to respond but was cut off by Kevin.

“Betty, (Y/n), You will not BELIEVE who just propositioned me in the bathroom. Give you a hint, his name may be moose…But I’d describe a certain appendage of his as as horse-like.”
You choked on a laugh at the description and put a hand over your mouth, “Oh man I knew one of the football players had to be gay, the small town gods demand it." 

Betty was just speechless her mouth open in shock.

Veronica showed up a few seconds later, "Hey (y/n) when did you get here?”
You shrugged, “A minute or so ago.”

She nodded in acknowledgement and turned to Kevin.
“I need a dance partner.” Veronica Grabbed Kevins hand with a grin and led him out to the dance floor. They passed Reggie and Moose on their way while the two boys were filling a flask with punch.

Kevin gave Moose an awestruck look as they passed and Moose quickly averted his gaze, which made you start laughing all over again. Your laughter caused Betty to start giggling too. But your laughter was cut short when Cheryls voice came through the loud speakers.

“Good evening, friends. are you all having a good time?”
The crowd around you clapped and cheered.

“As honorary chairperson and de facto Queen of tonights semi-formal…it is my great pleasure to introduce this evenings main entertainment. To know them is to be obsessed with them. Though they usually perform their own material– tonight they’re making an exception…And debuting a cover of the song my parents claim they were listening to the night Jason and I were conceived, this ones for you, JJ.”

You raised an eyebrow at the song choice, it was a little odd to pick something like that. But before you could comment Archie came up to you and Betty.“Sorry about that…oh hey (y/n)”

“I give you Josie and the pussycats!” Cheryl finished right after Archie spoke.
More cheering erupted around you at the mention of the bands name.
Music filled the gym as a slow song was played by the girls on the stage.

Archie turned to Betty, “Wanna dance?”
Betty broke out into a wide grin and happily accepted, leaving you standing alone at the edge of the room.

You watched with a happy grin on your face as Betty and Archie Danced, smiles on their faces. But your smile was quickly turned into a frown as Bettys face grew serious and she removed her arms from around Archies neck. You couldn’t hear what they were saying but you knew it couldn’t be good as Archie looked away from her uncomfortably.

Betty looked upset as the song came to an end and her and Archie stood stiffly beside each other.

You caught up to Kevin and Veronica by the snack table.
“did you guys see Archie and Betty? That really didn’t look good.”
Kevin and Veronica nodded and shared your worried look but before you three could discuss further one of Cheryls friends came up, and invited Veronica and you to an after party at Cheryls

-
-

You were sitting on a couch next to Betty kind of uncomfortable and lost in your own thoughts as you stared intently at a picture of Clifford Blossom, yours and Cheryls father. It was surreal thinking about it, thinking about him, being in this house.

But Cheryls voice interrupted your thoughts.
“It’s game time at chez Blossom, kiddies. We’re going old school tonight Seven minutes in heaven. Who wants to tryst in the closet of love first? My vote is ‘A’ for Archie. Anyone care to second it?”

“Wait, actually–” Archie started to protest but Reggie cut him off.
YES! Andrews. yes.”

Cheryls smile was the sickeningly sweet one as she gestured for everyone to come closer. “All right, gather round kids. Lets see whos riding the ginger stallion tonight.”
She flicked her wrist expertly and the bottle began spinning, Betty and Veronica leaned in intently and you looked on gripped with fear for your friends, you knew Cheryl was up to something and it wasn’t going to be good.

The bottle came to a halt, pointing right between Betty and Veronica. You swore under your breath.
Oooh no way!” Reggie laughed, oblivious to the deeper problems at play.

Betty and Veronica shared an awkward look and Cheryl smirked triumphantly.
“Its clearing pointing to…the new girl. this should be fun.”

Veronica shifted uncomfortably in her seat, “Um, Im not doing this.”

“Thats up to you, but if you don’t…house rules decree the hostess gets to take your turn.” Cheryls tone was antagonistic, she knew exactly what she was doing to those three.

Instead of answering Veronica just looked defeated and Betty looked at Archie looking like she was about to cry.
They walked into the closet and shut the door, You put a hand on Betty’s shoulder and she just stared at the wall, her green eyes glistening.

10 minutes later they were still in the closet.

“Betty its okay, I’m sure Archie and Veronica would never do anything to hurt you.” You tried to reassure her.
Betty was silent and still.

Cheryl watched her with a predatory gaze, her tone was mocking and cruel “(y/n) is right Betty, I’m sure nothing is happening between them.” She smirked as a tear escaped Bettys eye and she ran from the room.

You glared at Cheryl. “Seriously?” your voice was sharp with anger, and you wanted to wipe that stupid triumphant smile off her face, but Betty was more important.

You ran out the front door into the cool night air, but Betty was nowhere in sight.
“Betty?”

No response.
You groaned in frustration and started searching for the blonde.

-
-


Nearly half an hour later you were out of options and everything in this town was closed, except a diner called pop tates, with a resigned huff you decided to check here too as a last ditch effort.

You walked in the building and were instantly hit with the overwhelming smell of food cooking and something sweet. But food wasn’t why you were here.
You walked up to the counter and were greeted by an older man with kind eyes and a warm smile.
“Welcome to pop tates. you new in town?”

You nodded and your gaze darted around searching for Betty.
“Yeah I am listen, have you seen Betty Cooper?”

The man chuckled, “No, not tonight. but you are the second person to come in looking for her.” He gestured towards Archie who was sitting in a booth talking to Jughead. You stormed over to him.

“Archie Andrews I am going to kill you. Do you know how much you hurt Betty going into that closet? You could’ve refused! It’s not like Cheryl had a gun to your head! Or at the very least you could have have come out after the 7 minutes! You knew Betty liked you! You knew and I’m guessing those extra minutes in there weren’t filled with an innocent chat.”

Archie opened his mouth to respond but you cut him off.


“Betty doesn’t deserve this crap. And with Veronica!

way to rub salt in the–”

Archie cut your angry rant off.



“I know I messed up okay?” he looked defeated and heartbroken. “I’m going to go talk to her. I’m going to go fix this.”

“You better Andrews.” you crossed your arms and fixed him with a protective glare, but let him pass.

Jughead was staring at you with a peculiar expression on his face you couldn’t tell what was going on in his head, you didn’t care, not at the moment.

“What?” your tone wasn’t accusing or angry, just tired.

He stared at you like he was seeing you for the first time. 

“How long have you known Betty?”

You looked away and sighed, “I don’t know…a week?”


He nodded once and turned his focus back to his computer. You sat down in the seat across from him without asking and fixed him with a cryptic stare.



Jughead broke the silence, “Why?”

His question surprised you, and you just blinked.

“Why defend a girl you’ve only known for a week?” He pressed.


You sighed and looked down at your lap, your gaze refusing to meet Jugheads.

“I don’t know. people like Betty, she’s so kind and welcoming…Are so rare She accepted me and Veronica immediately. Even though Archie and Veronica had that spark, and she’s so head over heels for him…She still welcomed her welcomed us both treated us like friends. Then Veronica and Archie did what they did and hurt her so badly.”

You paused.



“This town already has enough hurting people.”

Jughead searched your face for a lie, or the hidden meaning behind your words. His Blue-green eyes met yours and you just stared right back, your face was neutral but there was a hint of sadness and Heaviness in your gaze.



You could tell he wanted you to explain further, and again you were reminded of a reporter. Digging at things that maybe should be left alone. And maybe you wanted to tell him…but you couldn’t.

You couldn’t tell anyone.



So, before Jughead had time to ask anything else, you stood up from the booth.

“I’ll see you around Jughead.”


And you left the diner, you walked home, and you went to bed.

-

-

but for the town of Riverdale, the night was far from over.

Best Friends (Jungkook one shot smut)

Originally posted by grape-joon

A/N: The link kept spazzing so I had to repost, sorry xx

Summary: You slept with your best friend, Jungkook. A mistake, a drunken adventure destined to gnaw at your mind. But what’s worse? You have feelings for him. 

Genre: Smut, Angst (oh boy), fluff

Pairing: You x Jungkook

Word count: 5k

Warnings: Smut, mentions of drinking

You’ve had so many dirty dreams about Jungkook already. So many dreams that felt so real. That’s why when you reached over and touched his arm, you almost fell off of the bed.

You jumped up, dragging the sheet with you to wrap around your very naked body. It was as if he was a complete stranger you woke up next to by the way you backed up and away from the bed. It was worse than that.

It was your best friend.

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Fig chatter! (Q/A)
First off, i just wanna say thank you so much to everyone for all the super nice and encouraging notes! It always makes me to happy to see that my work is making people happy and your notes really help to motivate me to do my best at this comic!

Yep!!! That manga is one of my favorite things in the whole world so it really really influenced my comic.


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Stereotypical

Bucky Barnes x reader AU (short series) 

Notes: swearing, flirting, mentions of child abuse and alcoholism (past), none other yet

Summary: As a PA/secretary, you are all too familiar with the fantasies nearly all men share: banging their hot assistant. Former jobs haven’t worked out for you for that exact reason, and now starting out at a new company, as the secretary for the CEO of the hottest modelling agency in the country, you’re hoping this one will be different. But after meeting your new boss, Mr J.B. Barnes, you’re not so sure if it will be. Then again, maybe Mr Barnes is not as stereotypical as you think he is.   

A/N: Hi guys! This is a little something I’ve been working on lately. It’s only gonna be a few parts and I hope you enjoy it! 

“Whoa, hey there doll, what’s the rush?”

Quickly checking if you hadn’t dropped anything, to avoid any more embarrassment on the first day on your new job, you looked up at the man you’d just crashed (face-planted) into.

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anonymous asked:

writing prompt (if u want) : andrew and neil met before while neil was someone else and broke andrew's heart by leaving/vanishing/faking death/idfk and then neil just shows up like no ?? u are like chris or some name and u r dead what is going on and how dare u

so we’re going to pretend im not the shittiest person ever and didn’t take like a week to write this 2000 word thing but anyways hope u like it :)

—————————————————————————————–

The shock of the exy racquet crashing into Neil’s stomach was secondary to the shock that came from seeing Andrew Spear again.  While his lungs screamed for air, his brain screamed for an escape.  To run.  And never stop running again.

The edges of his vision turned as black as the shirt Andrew wore the first time they’d met those few years ago.  It had been a startlingly warm day, aided by the fact that Nathaniel and his mother had just migrated south again from Montreal.  California was everything and nothing that Nathaniel, no, Chris, had expected.  It was hot, and there was the smell of salt in the air from the Pacific Ocean – that Chris had known would be there.  He hadn’t counted on people being so open.  Maybe that’s why he was so drawn to Andrew, a spot of darkness against the ever sunny sky.  Andrew had never been an easy read.

The first time Andrew spoke to him, it was because he had gotten into a fight with a teacher.  Neil had left the classroom at the end of the day with his head down, hugging his books close to his body.  He didn’t know how long he’d stay here, but the fact that his mother had let him attend school was a good sign that they’d be in California for a while.  Still it wasn’t a good idea to make friends or have ties here.  Nobody should remember his face.

“You know,” Neil had heard him say as he passed a tree on the edge of the school’s property, “For someone who’s trying to keep a low profile you sure do love to get in a fight.”

He turned and came face to face with the blonde.  Andrew hadn’t mastered the look of complete apathy yet and his eyes revealed the tiny spark of interest Neil had put there.

“For someone who’s barely four feet tall you sure do love antagonizing people,” Neil responded.

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